The Story of Atlantis
by Magi Mana
Summary: The Legendary Knights, the heroes who fought against the Orichalcos, are an enigma to those of the present time. Who were these Knights, and how did they end up as dragons encased in ice? Follow their journey from their meeting as squires to the day they were sealed away. Before Egypt, before the Leviathan returned, before they became legends, this is the Story of Atlantis.
1. Squires of Atlantis

_**So this is a story I've wanted to do for a while, mainly because it bothers me we get to know so little about the Atlantis characters, especially the Knights. This is based on the flashbacks shown during the Waking the Dragons arc and my own imaginings for how they got there.**_

 _ **I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! If I did, then we'd have gotten a true grasp on who the characters from Atlantis were.**_

Chapter One: Squires of Atlantis

Squire Timaeus wandered the halls of the palace, killing time until he was supposed to attend the banquet. He was glad to finally have made it to the next step of becoming a knight of Atlantis, his ultimate dream. His father, one of the many aristocrats, had been hesitant to allow him to try for knighthood, but he ultimately relented when he saw how determined his son was. Now Timaeus was a squire, and he just had to make four more years with whoever his partners would be. Atlantis valued teamwork and peace above everything else, so squires were grouped into trios, and building the trust between them was crucial.

"Hello, Timaeus," a squire with dark blonde hair greeted him.

 _Shoot, what was his name?_ Timaeus had seen the squire around, but hadn't been actually introduced. On the other hand, most people knew Timaeus because his hair always stood out. No other Atlantean had black hair streaked with indigo and turquoise bangs. Even Timaeus didn't know why his hair grew like that. It just did, to his annoyance.

The squire picked up on the gears turning in Timaeus's head. "It's Critias," he said. _Right._ The son of King Ironheart's most trusted advisor. Timaeus should have known that.

"Sorry, I've never been good with names," Timaeus apologized.

"You might want to get better if you want to make it as a knight," Critias answered. "My father says His Majesty hold the knights to the highest standards."

"I know that," Timaeus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "It's what I have to improve. I'm sure there's something you need to improve as well."

"Ha, please," Critias scoffed. "I work hard, and I've received perfects scores on every exam given to us. I have no doubt I'll be the leader of my team. Just try to keep up."

"I will," Timaeus diplomatically answered. He sure hoped he wouldn't be partnered with Critias. He didn't want to be led by such a perfectionist. He wanted to be with squires he could trust and hoped would be his friends above all else. "If you'll excuse me," he took his leave of the blond squire.

 _Deities of Atlantis, please don't let me be on his team._ Timaeus prayed as he continued his walk around the palace. As a squire, he would be expected to learn every inch of the place. Where the diplomats lived, the royal family's wing, the servants' areas, and everything in between. Timaeus didn't doubt Critias already knew the entire layout, and his competitive nature made him want to beat the smug blond.

"Oh, hey, Hermos," Timaeus spotted a familiar redheaded squire. He and Hermos had never formally met, but Hermos was about as well-known as he was. Only instead of being known for his hair, he was known as the only common-born squire. Hermos worked his way up from nothing, impressing King Ironheart with his knowledge and adeptness at multiple fighting styles.

"Timaeus, right?" Hermos answered. "I don't think there's another guy with hair like yours."

"Yeah, that's me," Timaeus sighed. "And before you comment, yes, it's natural."

"Wasn't thinking that," Hermos chuckled. "I've heard about you, probably the same way you've heard about me."

"I'm never going to like the chatter of the palace," Timaeus admitted. "All that should matter is whether or not we can do our jobs. Nothing else does."

"I wish more people thought like that," the redhead said. "It'd be easier to deal with the aristocrats then. No offense."

"None taken. Also, what was that move you used to subdue the guards during your demo for His Majesty?"

"Oh that wasn't anything fancy," Hermos grinned. "That was just a trick I used to deal with jerks back home. I can show you if you're interested."

"Sure," Timaeus smirked at his fellow squire. "I'll take you up on that sometime."

"I'll look forward to it. See you around, Timaeus."

"Until next time, Hermos."

The redhead squire turned down the hallway Timaeus came from, and Timaeus went down another corridor. If he remembered correctly, this was where the musicians and scholars lived and studied. A group of girls walked by, and he moved aside to let them pass.

"Oh, sorry," a girl with long, wavy brown hair bumped into him.

"Excuse me," Timaeus said at the same time, meeting her bright blue eyes. He felt a blush creep across his face. He'd never been this close to a girl, and this one was really pretty. Timaeus tried to look away, but he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"No, it's my fault," the girl insisted. Seeing her friends walking off without her, she stepped away, breaking Timaeus's trance. "Anyway, take care." With that, she hurried to catch up with the group.

Timaeus watched her leave. _What am I doing?_ He shook the thoughts of the girl away and resumed his walk around the castle. After circling around and feeling confident enough on his familiarity with the place, he headed to the banquet.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Timaeus sat with the other squires, waiting for King Ironheart to announce who the teams would be. One-by-one, each trio was called up. "Timaeus!" The tri-color haired warrior walked up to the platform. _Moment of truth. Who are my partners?_

"Critias!"

The blond strode to join them. "Well, well, Timaeus. Ready to follow my lead?" he smirked.

Timaeus inwardly groaned. _I should have known._ "I'm willing to work with you if you are."

"And Hermos!"

The redhead completed the trio. "You!" Timaeus's partners glared at each other.

"Why do I have to be on a team with a nobody like you?" Critias snapped.

"Why do I have to be stuck with a stuck-up Noble Boy?" Hermos scowled.

"Guys," Timaeus stepped between them. "Bicker later. Not when we're next to His Majesty."

That shut the other two up. Ironheart either pretended his didn't hear them or simply just didn't take notice. Being officially made a team, the three squires made way for the next group.

The rest of the banquet went by without a hitch with Timaeus keeping himself between his teammates. It was going to be a long four years if he had to play peacemaker all the time. Timaeus looked between the other two. He liked Hermos—the redhead had already proven himself capable, and he was friendly, provided he was treated the same way. Critias was equally capable, but he was arrogant. His arrogance made him look down on others, particularly Hermos, and he dwelled on his aristocratic title.

The banquet over, the three squires made their way to their new living quarters. Away from the others, Critias and Hermos resumed their squabbling. "Enough!" Timaeus snapped, silencing them. "We're supposed to be a team. How are we going to accomplish that if you two keep arguing with each other?"

"That's a very good question, Timaeus."

The three squires turned to see Ironheart standing in their doorway. They knelt, heads bowed in respect. "Rise," the king commanded them. "I am just here to check in on my squires and determine who will lead each team."

"I am sorry you had to hear our disagreement," Timaeus apologized. Critias and Hermos glared at each other.

"I understand you three may not see yourselves as an ideal team at the moment," Ironheart soothed the peacemaker. "But I see you three have the potential to be some of the finest knights Atlantis has ever seen. And you, Timaeus, will lead the way."

"What?" Critias's eyes widened. "But Your Majesty…"

"I know what you're thinking, Critias," the king stopped him. "Yes, you are capable, and you've tested higher than most other squires. But that is not all you need to learn. You need to see the value in others and learn to trust them. The three of you each have a unique skill set, and if you put aside your differences, you will grow more than you could have thought possible." With that, Ironheart left their room.

"See that, Noble Boy?" Hermos smirked. "Your fancy title and high scores aren't everything."

"Shut up, commoner," Critias glared at the redhead. "You're still nothing but third-rate wannabe mutt who can only hope not to make a fool of himself in front of the entire kingdom."

"You want to go, Noble Boy?" Hermos raised his fist, ready to punch his teammate.

"Stop it!" Timaeus yelled at them. "Both of you. Like it or not, we're stuck with each other. His Majesty pretty much said the same thing. And I for one would rather work with you guys instead of bickering all the time. Can you guys do the same?"

The other two nodded, glared at each other, and looked away, marching to opposite rooms of their quarters. Timaeus sighed. _It's going to be a long four years._


	2. The Muse and the Scholar

_**I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! If I did, Iona would have had more of a role in the show.**_

Chapter Two: The Muse and the Scholar

Anthea brushed the strings her lyre as she listened to Princess Iona's lesson. The lyre was her favorite instrument; she loved the sound the strings vibrating. But her mind kept wandering to the boy with the strange hair she ran into on her way to class. She blushed when she thought about how he stared at her. It wasn't uncomfortable; she guessed he was just awkward, which was sweet, or at least Anthea thought so. She wondered if it were possible to see him again. It would be nice to have someone outside the muses-in-training to talk to, and he was cute. With hair like that, he shouldn't be too hard to find. But she couldn't tell her gossip-heavy roommates. They coo and caw over Anthea having a crush, and she wasn't even sure that's what this was.

"Anthea?" Iona called on her. "Are you still with us?"

"Y-yes, Your Highness," Anthea bowed her head.

"Then can you play for us an A-major chord," Iona raised an eyebrow at her. Anthea strummed her lyre, playing the requested chord. "Very good."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Anthea set her lyre down.

"Now, moving on," Iona continued the lesson, to which Anthea put in her best effort to pay attention.

It felt like the lesson would never end. When it finally did, Anthea picked up her lyre and hurried to the door. "Anthea, a moment," Iona called to her.

"Yes, Your Highness," Anthea gave the princess a curtsy.

"Your mind seemed to be anywhere but the classroom today," Iona said. "Is something bothering you?"

"No, nothing like that," Anthea assured her. "I-I'm having a bit of an off day." She ran a hand through her wavy brown hair.

"I see," Iona accepted her answer, though didn't appear convinced. "You're normally so attentive; I don't want something to happen to one of my most promising students."

"I promise I'll do better," Anthea promised.

"By the way, how goes your composition for your recital next month?"

"I'm a little stuck," the muse-in-training admitted. "I just can't seem to find any good inspiration."

"Why don't you go to the library then?" Iona suggested. "Myths and stories are allowed to be part of your composition."

"Thank you, I will," Anthea curtsied and, after a nod from Iona, left the classroom.

She saw only servants and workers as she made her way to the library. _No sign of him. That's a little disappointing._ Of course, she had no idea who is was or even what his role in the palace was. She'd just have to hope she'd run into him again.

The library was deserted when she arrived. _Let's see. The legend stories are over this way._ She rounded the corner and ran straight into another girl carrying an armload of books. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" the girl apologized.

"No, it's my fault," Anthea told her. "I should have more careful. Here, let me get those for you." She helped the girl pick up all the discarded books.

"Thank you." Together they retrieved all the books from the girls' stack, allowing Anthea to get a good look at her. She had pink hair so pale it was almost white cascading down her back, her bangs falling into her sapphire eyes. She wore a simple pink gown accented by a white sash.

"There, all better," Anthea grinned. "I'm Anthea by the way."

"Belinda," the girl said. "What brings you here?"

"I need ideas for a composition," the brunette answered. "I'm training to be a muse, and I was hoping to read a few legends and myths for inspiration. What about you?"

"I'm always here," Belinda told her. "I've always liked legends and stories, and my family thought being a scholar would be a good fit for me. It's not what I expected, but I can't complain."

"What would you do if you had the chance?"

"Explore," the girl gazed out the nearest window. "I've read about all these places, including this whole other world where all kinds of creatures exist, and I'd love to just see them for myself."

"What have you found?" Anthea asked, her interest peaked. This other world might be perfect for her composition.

"All kinds of stuff," Belinda gestured for Anthea to follow her to the nearest table. "Apparently in that world, every being has some kind of power instead of just a few here."

"What kind of power?"

"Magic," Belinda set a book in the center of the table and held her hands over it. She chanted something, and her hands and the book glowed with a pale pink light. Then the book rose, hovering above the table.

"That's amazing," Anthea breathed.

"This is nothing," Belinda ended the spell. "I have only a spot of power. I can show you how if you'd like, but I'm the only one who really knows anything. Magic isn't really studied except for what I've done. My masters dismiss this as nothing more than legend to use as material for songs and stories."

"Well I like it," Anthea insisted. "And I'd love to learn."

"Great!" Belinda grinned and looked at the ground. "I… haven't really had anyone to share any of this with. They think I waste my time with it."

"It's not a waste," Anthea assured her. "Where do we start?"

"Let's try the spell I just showed you," Belinda went over the chant with her. Given Anthea's requirements to learn multiple passages and lyrics, she memorized it quickly. "Now hold your hands over the book and repeat the chant. Focus on what you want to happen. And don't feel bad if it doesn't work the first time."

Anthea closed her eyes and imagined the book floating like it had before. She recited the chant; her hands tingled. She opened her eyes, and the book hovered higher than when Belinda had cast the spell; it and her hands glowed a light blue.

"That's incredible," Belinda said. "It took me three weeks to get that right."

"So what does it mean?" Anthea asked.

"It means you have a knack for this," Belinda told her.

"Cool," she smiled. The glowed faded, and the book crashed to the table.

"I'm still figuring out what all is possible here," Belinda said. "But I hope to someday find that world. The books call it the Dominion of the Beasts."

"You did say it had a variety of creatures," Anthea grinned. "So what else can you do?"

"How much time do you got?"

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Anthea began going to the library after class every day. She made great progress on her composition, and she soon caught up to Belinda in terms of magic. They researched new spells and worked out theories to contact the Dominion of the Beasts. Anthea had always wanted to be a muse, but she was glad to help Belinda achieve her dreams. Especially since she never saw Belinda outside the library.

She never found the boy with the strange hair, to her disappointment. She'd though that since she saw him in her wing, he lived or worked somewhere around there. But nothing. Where could he be?

Anthea finally had enough. "Hey, Belinda, you see everyone who comes in here, right?"

"Yeah, but they usually don't remember me," she answered. "You're the only who does."

"They should," Anthea said. "You are amazing. You know all this stuff that people can't even imagine, and you taught yourself how to do magic. How many other thirteen-year-olds can do that? I'm proud to call you my friend."

"You really see me that way?" Belinda flushed under her praise.

"Yes," the brunette insisted. "In fact, you're my best friend."

"But surely there are other girls closer to you," Belinda denied. "I mean, you have some friends among the muses."

"Not really," Anthea told her. "They like to gossip too much. All I really hear from them is who screwed up in practice this week, which guy is the best-looking, and what the new couples are. With you I can have a real conversation."

"To be honest, you're the first friend I've had in a long time," Belinda said. "But why did you want to know about who came here?"

"Promise not to make fun of me?"

"I would never do that!"

Anthea sighed. "The day we met, I ran into a boy our age. Literally. I, well… I think he was cute, and I want to find him again. But I haven't seen him since that day."

"What does he look like?"

"He had really crazy hair. Black, indigo, and turquoise. But he can't have kept it that way."

"Oh, that's Timaeus," Belinda answered. "He's a squire, so that's probably why you haven't seen him. And yeah, that hair is natural. He has no control over it whatsoever."

 _A squire…?_ "So does he come here often?"

"Usually to either find a book or escape his partners. No one knows why His Majesty put those three together. All they seem to do is fight. At least the other two do; Timaeus's job is to get them to stop, but it never seems to last."

Anthea chuckled. "Poor guy. And he has to survive four years with them?"

"Yep," Belinda laughed. "I've overheard people taking bets on who's going to quit first. The one thing they all seem to have in common is that they're stubborn."

 _I think I'd like this Timaeus if we ever got to talk. From what she says, he could probably do with a friend outside the squires. Or at least someone to vent to._ "Thanks, Belinda," Anthea said. "I finally know who it was."

"If you ever talk to him, let me know," her friend told her. "I'm not one for gossip, but I like to hear how things are going for you."

"You'll be the first to know," Anthea promised.

 _ **So, yeah, no Squires themselves this chapter, but these two are going to be important. Since Timaeus, Critias, and Hermos don't have a similar name or color scheme to their modern counterparts, other counterpart OCs I write won't either (there's one more to introduce). So yes, Anthea and Belinda are based on characters from the other timelines. Anthea is a hybrid of two different characters; Belinda is based on only one. Points if you figure out who.**_

 _ **Anyway, thanks for reading!**_


	3. The Squire and the Smith

**_Woo-hoo! Two chapters within 24 hours! I'm doing pretty well! Or at least I hope I am. Anyway, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! If I did, we'd have had more fun with the Knights._**

Chapter Three: The Squire and the Smith

"We wouldn't have lost you hadn't disobeyed orders!" Critias shouted at him.

"You're not the one _giving_ orders, Noble Boy!" Hermos shouted back. "Timaeus is supposed to do that. You can't seem to come off your high horse and listen to him!"

"Enough!" Timaeus silenced them. "This is why we keep getting our butts kicked by the other squires. _They_ actually work as a team. But you two spend all your time arguing instead of accomplishing what's right in front of you."

"If the mutt listened instead of charging in, he'd know the other team had set a trap," Critias scoffed.

"That's it, Noble Boy!" Hermos launched a punch at the taller squire.

"Hermos, stop—" The leader moved to stop him, and the redhead's punch landed right in Timaeus's eye. He staggered back into Critias, clutching where he'd been hit.

"T, I'm sorry," Hermos apologized, realizing he'd gone too far.

Timaeus's open eye glared at both of them. "Both of you go cool off. And then let's start _acting_ like a team instead of three guys who can't seem to stand each other." With that he turned away, his left hand still pressed over his eye.

Rather than letting Critias get off another smart remark, Hermos turned and stomped off in a different direction. He grumbled as he looked for an outer courtyard to clear his head. Unlike his teammates, he still didn't entirely know his way around the palace. He could fit a thousand of his houses back home in it.

 _Stuck up rich snob! Where does he get off acting all high and mighty? And now I'm in hot water with Timaeus too._ "Stupid Noble Boy!" he yelled. He'd never hated anyone in his life as much as he hated Critias. Why did he have to be stuck with the most obnoxious guy he'd ever met? And now their fighting hurt Timaeus, the one guy who was actually decent to Hermos among the squires. "I'm such an idiot!"

"Deities curse it!" a woman's yell rang through the halls, leading Hermos to the courtyard he'd been looking for. At the opposite end were a smithy and a woman with thick, strawberry blonde hair yelling at a piece of metal.

"Hey, are you all right?" Hermos ran up to her.

"No, curse it," she didn't turn around. "I overworked the metal and ruined the sword I was working on."

"Easy," he held his hands up in defense. _This must be what Timaeus feels like when Critias and I lose our tempers._ "I'm sure you can fix it."

"It's not that simple," she turned angry violet eyes on him. I've worked on that sword for five days, and now there are flaws in the metal that can't be fixed. I'll have to start over, Squire."

For once, Hermos wasn't entirely sure what to do. _How does she know I'm a squire?_ Then it hit him; he was still wearing his uniform from class, his colored a reddish-orange. "Is there something I can do to help?" he offered.

"Do you know anything about forging metal?" she asked.

"A little, enough to take care of my own sword," he answered.

"Then not enough to help," she turned away and began pumping the bellows on her forge.

"Who was this sword even for?" Hermos picked up the discarded metal.

"No one in particular," she answered. "I like to have a variety available for when customers come, unless they want a custom blade. I was trying for a new style, and it didn't work."

"Sounds like you've been at this a while," he said. "I'm Hermos by the way."

"Circe," she told him. "And yeah, I've been working the shop since my father died."

"I'm sorry," Hermos said.

"Don't be; I'm over it," Circe brushed it off. "I wanted to be a knight, but that's a _man's_ job," she pursued her lips as she spoke, obviously bitter at that and whoever said it to her. " _Mother_ wanted me to be a lady with a good husband. But Father died before that could happen. Before that, he compromised by letting me help out here. Now I'm the only one that can run the place."

"That's not fair," Hermos answered. "If you want to be a knight, you should just go for it, no matter what those other jerks say." He left out that she'd be at least four years older than the other squires if she started now.

"It must seem easy on your end," Circe scoffed. "You get to be knight because you're a boy who gets what he wants."

"Hey, it hasn't been so easy for me either!" Hermos snapped. "I had to work my butt off to even get here, and I'm stuck with an arrogant rich snob who thinks he's better than everyone!"

"So you're not a noble?" Circe's violet eyes looked him over again. Hermos took the same opportunity to observe her. Her strawberry-blonde hair fell past her shoulders, and a dirty white apron covered her knee-length violet dress.

"It'd be easier if I were," Hermos answered. "The only reason I got in was because I impressed His Majesty with my fighting skills. And that happened because some less contented jerks tried to make their opinions known to him. I stopped them."

Circe raised an eyebrow at him. "So what style of fighting do you use?"

"A little of everything. Basically whatever's handy to deal with my opponent."

She took a sword off a shelf and tossed it to him. He reflexively caught it at the handle and examined it. It was longer and thinner than the sword he was used to, and there was guard for the hand wielding it. "Tell me how you think that sword would be used."

"Thrusting and stabbing," he answered. "It's a thin blade, so using it to hack and slash would be less effective, but still possible. Its point is extra sharp, meant to produce damage with a thrust. Wouldn't work very well against shields or a heavily armored opponent, probably meant more for civilian combat in the streets instead of by a knight or in army battle."

"I'm impressed," Circe said. "From you're expression, you've never seen a rapier before, and yet you correctly deduced its combat purposes, at least how this particular one is designed."

"Fighting is my specialty," Hermos told her. "I see a group of guys with a weapon, I can tell what style they're using and counter it. I only lose when jerks take me by surprise."

"Then you should learn to deal with the unexpected," Circe took another rapier off a shelf and held it up. "Show me what you got."

Hermos took a few practice swings before he held the rapier level in his right hand and turned so he was facing Circe at an angle. _Make myself a smaller target. Make her face my sword and not my body._ Circe took a similar stance. _Remember this is lighter than my usual sword. I've got to compensate for that._ Hermos threw a few quick jabs, all of which Circe deflected her own weapon. Then she moved on the offensive, forcing him to back up and parry her strikes. He found an opening and thrust his rapier forward. She ducked below the shot, and suddenly Hermos was on his back staring at the sky.

"What the heck?" he sat up.

"I told you to deal with the unexpected," Circe smirked. "Though I have to say, for having never held a rapier before, you handled it quite well." She offered him a hand up.

"I know you didn't hit me with the sword," Hermos accused her. "Why'd you knock my legs out?"

"Because it was unexpected," she answered. "You say your teammate thinks he's better than everyone, and you expect him to act a certain way. Same with the other nobles and combat in general. Just because someone has a sword in their hand doesn't mean that's what they're going to use to knock you off your feet. Look at things from a different perspective, and adapt to your situation."

"Wow… I did not expect you to get all philosophical on me," Hermos said.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, kid," Circe smirked again.

"I'm not a kid!"

"You're what, thirteen?"

"Fourteen!" It was a slight exaggeration. He turned fourteen in two months. But Circe didn't need to know that.

"Still a kid to me," she said. "I'm seventeen, and I've seen firsthand how the nobles act. They think if someone doesn't adhere to their rules, they don't have to follow them to deal with that person. And I'm one who doesn't follow their rules."

"So even though I expect them to play fair, they won't because I'm not good enough for them to use manners?" Hermos scowled.

"Exactly. But if you know that, you can counter and beat them at their own game."

"Thanks for the tip."

"No problem." Circe's gaze wandered up to the trees in the center of the courtyard. She smiled.

"What is it?" Hermos tried to spot whatever caught her eye.

"Just the birds," she answered, pointing to the tree. "I've always liked birds. They're free to be what they want, not weighed down by customs or titles or rules. One reason I'm glad I have this spot; I can watch when they nest and fly."

Hermos spotted the sparrows circling each other. "They are kind of cute."

"They're beautiful," Circe gazed at them. She sighed. "I should get back to work. I still have a sword to remake."

"Thanks for the lesson," Hermos handed her back the rapier he'd used. "You mind if I come by again? I'd love to try out your other weapons."

"Sure. Meet me here tomorrow afternoon."

"I'll be here."

With that, Hermos left Circe to finish her work. Having nothing else to do, and owing Timaeus a much-needed apology, he headed back to the quarters they shared.

Timaeus was sprawled on the couch, a slice of raw meat covering his left eye. "Hey, T, how do you feel?" Hermos asked.

"My eye hurts."

"I'm sorry," Hermos apologized. "I let Critias get to me and lost my temper. I need to do better. He just ticks me off so much."

"It's okay," Timaeus told him. "We _all_ need to do better. Critias needs to not push your buttons, you need to keep your cool, and I need to do a better job of leading."

"T, you're a good leader," Hermos said, sitting in one of the chairs. "Critias and I just need to listen to you."

"Where did you find this newfound wisdom?"

"I made a friend after I punched you," Hermos grinned. "She knocked me off my feet."

"And she calls you a friend?" Timaeus shifted to better see his teammate with his good eye.

"No, she didn't," Hermos admitted, "but I like her."

"And how did she knock you down?"

"We sparred," he answered. "She pulled the unexpected."

"Sounds interesting," Timaeus winced and pulled the meat away, revealing his eye had swollen shut and turned an ugly reddish-purple.

"Ooh, that looks like it really hurts," Hermos winced at his handiwork.

"It does," the injured squire said, replacing the meat. "And I'm not excused from training tomorrow. That's going to be fun."

"Again, I'm really sorry."

"I'll be fine, Hermos," Timaeus assured him. "Tell me more about this friend of yours."

"Her name's Circe," he said. "And she actually pretty awesome. She's a smith; her shop is in one of the courtyards."

"I think I've seen her," the tri-color haired leader answered. "Tall, reddish-hair? Watches the birds when she's not working?"

"How'd you know she bird watches?" Hermos asked.

"I've seen her watching that tree where the sparrows nest. I figured that's the only thing in that tree she could watch." He winced again, shifting the meat.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay tomorrow?" Hermos asked his leader.

"Don't have a choice," Timaeus answered. "I can tough through it, and hopefully it'll hurt less in the morning. I'm mainly worried about being able to see."

"Critias and I will help cover that," Hermos promised. "And if the snob won't help, then it's his fault if we lose again."

"I thought it was the mutt's fault we keep losing," Critias chose that moment to return to the room. "How's his screw-up?"

"Watch it, Noble Boy," Hermos warned him. "Timaeus ain't gonna block my shot again." _Man, he ticks me off._

"I'm fine, Critias," Timaeus cut in. "But I'd be better if you didn't keep egging him on."

"What? Can't he take what's thrown at him?" Critias smirked.

"Critias," Timaeus warned him. "Can we at least agree to no arguing until I can see out of my left eye?"

"Fine," the blond relented.

"I will if he will," the redhead agreed. _Just keep your smart aleck comments to yourself, Noble Boy._

"Thank you," Timaeus stood up and walked to the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get food that will hopefully _not_ end up on my face."

 _ **Okay, so now we've met pretty much every character that's going to be important to the story, minus the complete royal family. But Circe is the last of the OC's I'm introducing, and like Anthea and Belinda, she's based on a character in the modern timeline.**_

 ** _Thanks for reading!_**


	4. Poor Timaeus

_**I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! If I did, we'd have seen more of Atlantis itself.**_

Chapter Four: Poor Timaeus

Timaeus groaned as he opened his functioning eye, the dawn lights just streaming through the window. He really didn't want to get up, but he had to get ready for training. And now was the only relative quiet there would be to do it in, because once Critias and Hermos got up, the room would once again be filled with noise. Their agreement to not fight was tentative at best. One smart remark from Critias or a hotheaded move from Hermos would send them back to the squabbling that left Timaeus temporarily blind in one eye.

Which he was reminded of as his foot slammed into his wardrobe. Biting back the yell of pain and frustration, since he knew that would wake up his teammates, Timaeus hopped on one foot, clutching his stubbed toes until the pain subsided. _This is not going to be my day._ Resigning himself to that fact, he dressed himself in the white shirt, black breeches, and teal tunic that made up his squire uniform. He slipped on his boots and left of their living quarters, heading to the mess hall.

Several other squires were already there, clustered in several groups as they visited with each other, daring each other in their spars and battles for the day. As Timaeus passed by, he heard some of the squires start snickering at him. It wasn't hard to guess why. No one ever got a black eye from their own teammate before. And as a team, his was the only one that had yet to win a match.

Timaeus chose to ignore them and stood in line for his food. Since he spent the majority of the previous night with meat on his face, he avoided it and went straight for the fruit, bread, and eggs, loading up as much as he could. He found a spot in the corner; he decided he didn't feel like socializing with the others, especially since his eye started throbbing again. He didn't need the jokes directed at his face; it was bad enough they were saying it behind his back.

"Hey, Timaeus, ready for another epic failure?" a squire with aqua-colored hair laughed at him.

"Shut up, Darren," Timaeus kept his eye on his food.

"What?" the squire sneered. "Don't snap at me because you can't lead your team. Though honestly, what was His Majesty thinking not letting Critias lead? It's obvious to all of us you can't, even if you didn't have to try to keep that mongrel Hermos on his leash."

 _Ignore him. He's just trying to egg me on. If we start a fight here, we'll get hauled in front of Lord Durain, and we don't need that right now. Besides, it's just me against them, and I'm half-blind._ Timaeus continued to eat his food, not even meeting the squire's eyes.

"What? Are you too ashamed at your own failure to answer?" Darren shoved Timaeus's food onto the floor. "Maybe now you'll answer."

"Now that's just a waste of food," Timaeus glared at the squire. "Darren, if you're so convinced leading a team is so easy, maybe you should try it yourself instead of following your own leader." He stood up and stepped away from the table, intending to get more food.

"Why you!" He heard Darren come up on his left side. Reflexively, Timaeus ducked to avoid the punch and swept the other squire's feet out from underneath him. He suppressed a smile as Darren landed directly in the remains of Timaeus's breakfast, the jam smeared all over the squire's green tunic.

"On second thought, I'm not that hungry," Timaeus left the meal hall. Putting Darren in his place made him feel better, but he had a sneaking suspicion it was going to come back to bite him later. _Nothing I can do about it now. Right now I just have to hope Critias and Hermos haven't killed each other in my absence._

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

"All right, guys," Timaeus ignored the throb in his left eye and looked at each of his teammates. "You ready?"

"Of course," Critias smirked.

"You know I am," Hermos grinned.

They stood at their designated spot in the forest outside the palace; their opposing team was starting somewhere else in the vicinity. "Okay. Once we start, Critias, you scout out the area. Don't engage unless they attack first. Figure out which weapons were assigned to them and where they're basing their attack. Hermos, stay with me. It's likely they'll send out their own scout. If we can incapacitate him, it'll be easier to take out the other two before they know we're onto them."

"On it," Hermos agreed.

"Are you three ready?" Lord Durain, one of the knights in charge of training the squires, asked. Timaeus always felt intimidated by the combat instructor, partly because he took no nonsense from any of the squires. Every time his team failed, Timaeus hated the look of disappointment on the knight's face.

"Yes, my lord," all three answered.

"Good," the brunet knight looked over each of them. "Try not to get too beat up today."

 _Thanks for the vote of confidence._ Timaeus resisted the urge to roll his eye.

"All right," Durain continued. "When Sir Farvald and I give the signal, attack."

The three squires nodded. Hermos swung his wooden axe, comfortable with its weight. Critias twirled his quarterstaff, acquainting himself with its length and weight. Timaeus held his wooden sword ready. From somewhere among the trees, they heard Sir Farvald yell for them to start. Nodding to Critias, Timaeus watched the blond disappear among the trees.

"And now we wait," he commented, keeping his sword level. He listened for the slightest noise, any indication the enemy was headed their way.

"I hate this part," Hermos muttered, standing at Timaeus's back. "I hope Noble Boy finds them fast. I'm itching to bash me some enemies."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Timaeus warned his overeager friend, turning his head to see his friend out of the corner of his eye.

No sooner than he glimpsed his friend something slammed into the blind side of his head. Timaeus tried to turn around to see where it had come from, but his head was spinning. He stumbled, and darkness swarmed his vision.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Critias spotted the squire Darren in a nearby tree almost immediately after he left Timaeus and Hermos. _There's one of them. I need to take him out, and then I can find Garrick and Wesley._ He crept closer to the tree; Darren hadn't spotted him. In fact Darren's focus was on something completely different. Critias followed his enemy's line of sight, spotting Timaeus and Hermos standing back-to-back. Timaeus turned just a bit, and Darren whipped out a slingshot and fired it. The projectile slammed into Timaeus's head. Critias's leader staggered and collapsed to the ground.

"Timaeus!" Hermos called to their fallen friend, looking around for the source of the shot.

Critias crept underneath the tree Darren was currently occupying. _I wish I had a spear or bow and arrow. That'd be better for knocking him out of the tree. Using this staff like that could get me yelled at by Lord Durain. Well, maybe…_ Critias thrust his staff at the squire in the tree, using its length to extend his reach. Hitting his target, Darren fell out of the tree. Critias pulled the staff back and swung it into his enemy's chest, knocking him flat on his back. "You can't expect me to believe you were given a slingshot for this battle," Critias accused, using his foot to keep the other squire down.

"Aw, come on, Critias," Darren laughed. "You know how it is. We're the top of the bunch, the best of the best. I was just putting the mongrel and spikey-haired freak in their places."

"Timaeus is a noble like us," Critias countered. "And attacking him like this proves you have no honor as a noble or a squire. You attacked with a commoner's weapon, and you broke the rules of our combat."

"I was just getting even with him," Darren spat. "He's the one who humiliated me in front of everyone this morning."

"Whatever it was, I'm sure you deserved it," Critias smirked. "I actually work with him. It takes a great deal of effort to get on Timaeus's bad side. He by far has the most patience out of all of us."

"Too bad that won't help you now," Darren sneered. "You're down a man, and you can't expect that mongrel to be of any use."

"We'll see about that," Critias smirked. "Hey, mutt, how is he?" he called to his teammate.

"He's out cold, Noble Boy," Hermos answered. "You got something?"

"Their little scout and rule breaker," Critias hauled Darren to his feet, using his staff to keep the squire in place. "Should we go take care of the other two?"

"You have to ask?" Hermos picked up his fallen leader's sword, holding it in his right hand and his axe in his left. "What should we do about Timaeus?"

"Worry about yourselves fist," Darren grinned as his teammates jumped out from the nearest bushes. He slammed his head into Critias's face, forcing the blond to let him go. Hermos stared down Garrick and Wesley, parrying their blows with his two weapons. It may have been two-on-one, but Hermos could hold his own. It was his one advantage to being common-born—a lot of brawls with no official rules.

Critias twirled his staff as Darren took out his sword—the weapon he was supposed to use for the battle. The blond smirked. His weapon had the length advantage, and he knew as well as anyone else the sword was Darren's worst weapon. Ironic for someone wanting to be a knight that he excelled in every weapon except the one every knight was supposed to wield. "You're not going to scare me with that," he said.

"Want to bet?" Darren swung the sword at him; Critias deflected it away.

"A noble without honor doesn't scare me," Critias scoffed. He used the length of his staff to his advantage, keeping himself from the sword and forcing the blade out of his opponent's hands. "Even the mutt deserves more respect than you."

"And I thought you didn't care about me," Hermos grinned and he swept Garrick's legs out from underneath him. He then used his two weapons together to yank the weapon out of Wesley's hands. "Need back up, Noble Boy?"

Critias thrust his staff forward, knocking Darren back. "Please, you're an even bigger idiot than I thought if you think I can't handle one honorless bug on my own." Darren charged at him again; Critias sidestepped and struck his opponent in the back of the legs. He went down. "Now let's see what Lord Durain has to say about him."

"Oh, I have plenty to say," Lord Durain and Sir Farvald looked over the group. Farvald was bigger of the two knights, but no one doubted Durain was in charge "Squire Darren, I believe you are fortunate these two didn't come after you harder. And I also believe you'll owe Squire Timaeus an apology when he recovers. Or do you not realize that you could have killed him?"

As Lord Durain lectured the defeated squire, Sir Farvald inspected the Timaeus's condition, flanked by Critias and Hermos. "Did he get hit in the eye?" Farvald asked.

"No," Hermos answered sheepishly. "That's from yesterday."

"Poor kid," Farvald chuckled, connecting the dots on what happened. "Ah, there it is," he found the spot on the side of Timaeus's head where he'd been hit. "He'll have a nasty bump when he wakes up, but he'll be all right. I'll take him to the infirmary." He hoisted the unconscious thirteen-year-old over his shoulder and walked back towards the castle. "You're dismissed."

Nodding to the knight and knowing there wasn't anything else they could do for their teammate, Critias and Hermos began the walk back to their room. "You know, I thought when we promised T yesterday to stop arguing, he'd be less likely to get hurt."

" _I_ never injured him," Critias smirked.

"Grrr… Noble Boy, if I hadn't promised T, you'd be facing a lot more trouble right now," Hermos growled.

"But at least we learned one thing," Critias said, letting his annoyance with his teammate die down, if only out of respect for their leader.

"That if you and I aren't trying to kill each other, we make a pretty good team?" Hermos grinned.

"Believe what you like, mutt," Critias rolled his eyes at the redhead.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Timaeus's head ached, originating from the left side of his head. A cool cloth was laid over his forehead, easing some of the pain, but still left a lot of it there. "Ow," he moaned, blinking his working eye. He pushed himself up, dropping the cloth and increasing the pounding of his head.

"Take it easy," a soft voice said as a hand steadied him. As his eye tried to focus, all he could see was blue framed by brown. He closed it against the light of the room. "From what I was told, you're going to have a nasty headache."

"That's an understatement," he muttered.

"Here," the voice said. He figured it was probably a girl talking to him, which if his head didn't hurt so much would have been awkward. A cup was pressed into his hands. "Drink some of this. I'm told it'll help."

Believing his head couldn't possibly hurt any worse, Timaeus drank the contents of the cup. He gagged; he couldn't remember the last time he'd had anything so bitter. Then the pounding in his head lessened. _Score one for bitter medicine._

"Feel better?" the voice asked.

"Define better," he grumbled. She giggled and gently pushed him back down, replacing the cloth. Timaeus opened his eye again, focusing on her face. Now he could see her smiling at him, her smile reaching all the way to her bright blue eyes. She tucked a lock of wavy brown hair behind her ear. _I've seen her before._

"I think Mistress Alfreda will be pleased to hear you're doing better," she said.

"Sure," Timaeus felt tired again, probably a side effect of the medicine he drank. _I know I've seen her? But where?_ He struggled against his increasing drowsiness, trying to remember where he'd seen the girl. He tried to look at her again, but she turned her attention to someone else, and he fell into the folds of sleep.

 ** _Deities of Atlantis, I'm being so mean to Timaeus. First a black eye, and now he's getting knocked out? Hopefully things will go better for him next time. On the bright side, Hermos and Critias have shown they_ can _work together. Let's just hope Timaeus doesn't need to keep getting injured for that to happen. :-D_**

 ** _Anyway, thanks for reading!_**


	5. The Infirmary

_**I know it's been forever since I updated this. It's been a combination of real life, writer's block, and lack of motivation. On the bright side, you guys in the reviews are very good guessers on the basis for my three OCs. Speaking of them, this chapter focuses on one of them.**_

 _ **I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! I only own Anthea, Belinda, and Circe. If I did, we'd have seen more of the citizens of Atlantis.**_

Chapter Five: The Infirmary

Anthea headed towards the library. Belinda would be surprised to see her this early in the afternoon, but Princess Iona had called off class. Anthea hoped nothing was wrong with Her Highness; it wasn't like her to cancel out of the blue.

She passed a knight carrying someone over his shoulder. As he went by, she spotted black hair streaked with indigo. _What happened to him?_ She turned and followed them into the infirmary.

"Oh my," said a healer with grey hair tied in a low bun.

"Can you take care of him, Mistress Alfreda?" the knight set the boy on the bed.

"What happened?" the healer asked.

"Training gone wrong," the knight answered. "A disgruntled squire broke the rules of combat. Timaeus here took one in the head."

"Let me see," Mistress Alfreda inspected the squire. "That spot's going to ache when he gets up. I already know about his eye; he was just in here yesterday to get that looked at." She went to a nearby cupboard and pulled out a bottle. A dose of this will help with his pain. How long can you stay?" She turned to the knight.

"I have to go oversee other combat training," the knight answered. "Where is your apprentice?"

"My apprentice is out sick," the healer answered. "Even with my best remedies, nothing is better than bed rest. And I have to go see Her Highness about something."

"I could stay," Anthea found herself speaking up before she realized it. She shrank back from the two adults now focused on her. "I don't have anywhere I need to be, and I'm happy to help. My mother was a healer, and I used to help her."

"You're Flora's daughter," Mistress Alfreda seemed to recognize her. Anthea nodded. "I can see the resemblance. Deities bless her; she was one of my finest students. If you're sure, I can leave you with him. I shouldn't be gone too long." She measured out a dose of her medicine. "If he wakes up, have him drink this. It'll help with the pain, but it'll probably put him to sleep after that too."

"I understand," Anthea pulled up a chair next to the squire. "Damp cloth on the forehead too?"

"Exactly," Mistress Alfreda smiled. "So what are you if you're not a healer?"

"I'm training to be a muse," the brunette answered.

"Shame," the healer shook her head and headed towards the door. "I could use the extra help in here."

"I'll keep that in mind," Anthea bowed her head. Mistress Alfreda left the infirmary, leaving her and Timaeus alone.

 _I wonder how he ended up like this. Were his teammates fighting again?_ Anthea remembered what Belinda had heard about Timaeus and his team. They never stopped fighting, and Timaeus always seemed stuck in the middle. _Of all the ways I thought of seeing him again, this definitely wasn't on the list._

She took a cloth and dipped it in cool water, wringing it out and placed it on the downed squire's forehead. _I honestly never thought I'd be working in an infirmary again. What do you think, Mother?_ A wave of homesickness hit Anthea. She had been at the palace for months now, and she hadn't really thought of her home. Or rather, she'd been avoiding it. _Well there's nothing I can do about it now._ She examined the cup with Alfreda's medicine. The scent of the herbs was a good indication of how bitter it would taste. "That'll be fun to watch."

Her charge stirred. "Ow," he moaned.

"Take it easy," Anthea reprimanded him. "From what I was told, you're going to have a nasty headache."

"That's an understatement," Timaeus muttered.

"Here," she moved Alfreda's brew into his hands. "Drink this. I'm told it'll help." He cautiously drank the contents and then gagged. He passed the cup back to her. "Feel better?"

"Define better," he grumbled.

A giggle slipped out. Anthea knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help it. He just seemed done with his situation, and it was funny. She pushed him back down to rest, and he opened his uninjured eye to look at her. Feeling self-conscious, she tucked her hair behind her ear and looked away. "I think Mistress Alfreda will be pleased to hear you're doing better."

"Sure," he sighed, closing his eye. After a minute, his breathing slowed, evidence he was asleep again.

"You must have some serious bad luck," Anthea commented.

"Just the last couple of days," someone said. Startled, Anthea turned to see another squire standing in the doorway, based on his reddish-orange uniform. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, awkwardly running a hand through his red hair. "I'm Hermos, one of Timaeus's teammates."

"Anthea," the brunette extended a hand to him. "So you know how he ended up like this?"

"Yeah, a little bug named Darren knocked him out," Hermos shook her hand. "Apparently T put him in his place this morning, so he took some revenge. Though I have to claim responsibility for his eye."

"What did you do? Punch him?" Anthea joked. He just gave her a sheepish smile and looked away. "You seriously punched him in the face?"

"I wasn't trying to hit _him_ ," Hermos raised his hands in defense. "That stuck-up Noble Boy ticked me off and I was going to punch him. T just tried to stop me. But he stopped me with his face."

"You're horrible!" Anthea gaped at him.

"Tell me that after you talk with Noble Boy," Hermos grinned.

"I don't even know this 'Noble Boy' you're referring to," she said.

"Critias," he said the name like it left a sour taste in his mouth. "The only thing we can agree on is how much we want to kick the other squires' butts."

"And have you?" Anthea raised an eyebrow at him.

"Once, today," Hermos sighed. "We've been losing every match we fought. Today was the first time we won. Though that's probably because both Noble Boy and I were ticked off at the jerks who hurt T. Revenge is a good motivator."

"Whatever you say," Anthea shook her head at his explanation.

"You must hear similar stories working here," Hermos said. "T can't be the only injured squire you've taken care of."

"Yes, he is," she told him. "I don't work here."

"What?" Hermos blinked his golden eyes at her.

"I'm not a healer; I'm training to be muse," Anthea bit back a laugh at the redhead's confused expression.

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I was walking by when that knight brought Timaeus in. I volunteered to help when Mistress Alfreda said she was shorthanded." Anthea brushed her hair out of her eyes.

"Just like that?"

"It's not like I don't know what I'm doing," Anthea said. "I used to help my mother. I just decided it wasn't for me. I prefer music and dancing to mixing herbs."

"I can understand that," Hermos said. "My folks didn't know what to think when I said I wanted to be a knight." He glanced out the window, noticing the sun's position in the sky. "Aw, man, I gotta go. I'm supposed to meet a friend."

"Okay," Anthea smiled at him. "Don't worry. Timaeus will be fine. Mistress Alfreda will see to that."

"Thanks, Anthea," Hermos grinned at her. "I'll see you around."

"Bye, Hermos."

The redhead left the infirmary, leaving Anthea alone with her charge. Discussing her actual role, she reached for her bag. _I wonder if I could get this to work._ She pulled out one of the magic books she and Belinda had been studying. This one was on using magic to heal. _If I understand this correctly, I could heal his injuries in a fraction of the time they would normally take._ Anthea flipped through the pages, remembering that the effects and dangers came after the spells themselves.

"What is that?"

Anthea jumped at the sound of Mistress Alfreda's voice. She snapped the book shut. "Just something I'm researching for a ballad." It wasn't an outright lie; she was using her and Belinda's research as inspiration for her music. But Mistress Alfreda probably wouldn't approve actually trying a spell on one of her patients. Magic was supposed to be nothing but a legend.

"I'd be careful with that," Mistress Alfreda said as she checked the sleeping patient. "Even the most outrageous legends have a touch of truth in them."

"I understand," Anthea bowed her head to the elder woman. "I won't do anything rash."

"Now, is there anywhere else you're supposed to be today?" the healer asked.

"Not really," Anthea answered. "I normally have lessons with Her Highness, but not today, and then I usually meetup with a friend of mine in the library. She's probably not going to expect me for quite a while though."

"Good," Mistress Alfreda pulled herbs down from where they were drying in the corner. "Do you know how to prepare these herbs?"

"Some of them," Anthea answered.

"Work with the ones you know, and I'll work on the others," Mistress Alfreda instructed. "I need the stock replenished, and you need something to do."

"Sure," Anthea took a place at the table and began preparing the medicines. She fell into a routine as she prepared each one—slice this one; grind that one with the mortar and pestle.

She didn't realize how much time had passed until the squire stirred again. "Well, well, he lives," Mistress Alfreda walked over to the injured squire. "How do you feel?"

"What hit me?" Timaeus glanced around the infirmary.

"According to your friend Hermos, a bug named Darren," Anthea answered. "And before that, your friend Hermos."

Timaeus groaned and pressed a hand to the side of his head. "I knew this wouldn't be my day."

"It could be worse," Anthea pointed out.

"Yeah, I could've lost the eye for good."

"Okay, I wasn't going that morbid," Anthea rolled her eyes.

"All right, you two," Mistress Alfreda silenced them. "Anthea, why don't you take him back to his quarters?"

"I'm fine," Timaeus protested. "I can get there on my own."

"That may be, but I won't take a chance," Mistress Alfred shot him down. "I don't want a complaint coming from Lord Durain that a squire under my care failed to make it home."

"Yes, Mistress," Timaeus bowed his head. Anthea grabbed her bag, and the two teenagers left the room.

The squire led the way through the palace. "So, it's Anthea, right?" he asked. "Have we met before?"

"Not officially," the brunette answered. "I bumped into you a couple of months ago."

"Let me guess: you remembered the hair?"

"I think everyone remembers the hair," she laughed. "And my best friend has met you a couple of times."

"Who's that?" Timaeus asked.

"Belinda," Anthea told him. "She works in the library. Pinkish-white hair, probably caring a stack full of books?"

"Oh yeah, I've met her," Timaeus's eye lit up in recognition. "She doesn't talk much."

"Maybe to you," Anthea countered. "Thanks to her, I got three different compositions ready for my next assessment."

"Muse?" Timaeus asked.

"Yep," she grinned. "I had to spell it out for your friend Hermos."

"He stopped by while I was out?"

"Yeah, he really couldn't figure out why I was there," Anthea laughed. "He did say you guys won your match today. Whatever that means."

"So my teammates finally worked together and I missed it?" Timaeus rolled his eye. "I've been trying to get them to do that since we were partnered together."

"Apparently they were both mad at bug-boy," Anthea said. "At least that's what Hermos kept calling him."

"Darren," Timaeus sighed. "I get the feeling we're not done with him." He stopped at a door. "Here's the place." He opened the door and stuck his head in. "Looks like the guys are out."

"Shame," Anthea smirked. "And Hermos spoke so highly of your other partner."

"Okay, Sarcasm," Timaeus laughed. "Thanks for helping me."

"I'm glad to help." The weight of her bag gave the brunette an idea. "Actually, if you trust me, I might be able to help your eye."

"Mistress Alfreda said it would be fine in a few days," the squire raised an eyebrow at her. "What are you thinking?" He opened the door for her to come in.

"Just promise you won't tell anyone else about it," Anthea said, taking the book out of her bag before she lost her nerve. She hadn't actually tried the spell she wanted to use, and her and Belinda's experiments had _very_ mixed results. But she wouldn't know until she tried. Anthea flipped to the correct page and reread the spell before holding a hand to Timaeus's face. She closed her eyes, imagining the swelling of his eye fading away as she chanted the spell.

"What's happening?" Timaeus's voice right in front of her reminded her of how close they were, breaking her concentration. The magic recoiled striking the squire in his injured eye. "Ow, ow, ow!" he staggered backwards, clutching his eye. The swelling increased.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Anthea apologized over and over. "I lost my focus."

"What in the Deities' names was that?" Timaeus spat.

"It was supposed to be healing magic," Anthea bit her lip. "Look, just let me try again. I promise it will work this time."

Timaeus glared at her before relenting. "All right. How much worse could it get?"

"Belinda says to never ask the question," Anthea grinned. She took a breath and held a hand to Timaeus's eye again. _Don't lose focus. I know the words. I can do this._ She chanted the spell again, feeling the tingle of her magic extending from her fingers. When she finished the spell, she opened her eyes to see the blue glow of her magic fade from Timaeus's eye.

Two indigo eyes blinked at him, all signs of his injury gone. "That's incredible," he said, cautiously pressing the area around it. "My day just starting looking up. Where did you learn how to do that?"

"It's what Belinda and I have been researching," she answered. "Everybody else thinks magic is just a legend, but it's real. The two of us have been figuring out how to do it. But we don't exactly have permission, so again, do tell anyone."

"I won't," Timaeus promised. "Mind showing me some?"

"Sure," Anthea ginned. "Belinda's in the library all day, and I usually meet up with her when I'm done with classes."

"Noble boy, why do you gotta be such a jerk all the time?" someone asked outside the door.

"Oh, Deities," Timaeus sighed, rubbing his healed eye.

"What is it?" Anthea asked.

"I got my teammates to agree to stop fighting until I could see out of my eye."

"Oohh," Anthea connected the dots.

"It's simple, mutt. I don't like you," another voice said before two squires walked in the door. Anthea recognized Hermos from earlier; she assumed the blond with a navy blue uniform was the third member of the team.

"Guys, knock it off," Timaeus interrupted them.

"Hey, T!" Hermos grinned. "Your eye's fixed!"

"Does that mean I can stop making nice with the mutt?" the blond rolled navy eyes at them.

"Watch it, Noble Boy," Hermos glared at the other squire.

"Please tell me today isn't going to be the only time you two work together," Timaeus sighed. "I want to at least see it with my own eyes."

"You heard about that?" Hermos asked.

"You told me," Anthea pointed out. Hermos and the other squire turned to her, apparently having not noticed her until now.

"Oh, Anthea, right?" Hermos tried to play it off.

"Glad you remember me," Anthea smiled.

"Sorry you had to interact with the mutt," the blond smirked. "He's not the best one to get an impression of us squires."

"Critias, stop," Timaeus silenced the blond. "Unless you want our record to remain as bad as it is."

"I'll leave you guys to it," Anthea headed to the door.

"So, tomorrow?" Timaeus asked.

"Meet me in the library when you're free," she told him. "Bye, guys." She bid farewell to the squires and left the room. _Belinda's not going to believe this._

 ** _So Anthea has now met the squires. Let's see what kind of fun the expanding group can get into. I hope I won't make you guys wait as long for an update next time. Thanks for reading!_**


	6. Budding Friendship

_**Sorry it's been a while again, guys. My update cycle seems to be taking longer than it used to. That, and I was really stuck on how to do this chapter. Anyway, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! If I did, I wouldn't be writing here because this would already be part of the story. Instead, I can only claim ownership of Anthea, Belinda, and Circe.**_

Chapter Six: Budding Friendship

"Watch it, mutt."

"Grr… Noble Boy."

Timaeus slipped out of their quarters as his teammates started to go at it again. Whatever miracle had made them work together against Darren, Garrick, and Wesley didn't seem to last. They were once again defeated in training, despite Timaeus being able to see out of both eyes. And the defeat that happened because Critias and Hermos were arguing made the two squires argue more. Timaeus needed an escape.

 _I sure hope Anthea and her friend have something interesting to do. And that it takes a while._ Timaeus headed straight for the library. Even if the girls weren't there yet, he could hide out from his teammates or the other squires. Surely the scholars wouldn't mind if he tucked himself in some corner with a handful of books.

"Hey, Timaeus!" The squire was shaken from his thoughts at the voice of his new friend. Anthea waved to him from the corner, a lyre in one hand. "How did things go today?"

"Don't ask," Timaeus sighed.

"That bad?"

"I've got the bruises to prove that yesterday's win was a fluke. I'm never going to see those two work together." Timaeus rubbed the back of his head. "You'd think after a few months they'd grow on each other."

"I don't know what to tell you," Anthea chuckled.

"Just tell me I can hide out with you until they either start sulking or one knocks the other out."

"You don't really want them to hurt each other, do you?"

"At this point, I'll take anything that makes our quarters quiet," Timaeus rolled his eyes. "You know how hard it to study battle formations or military history when 'Noble Boy' keeps egging 'the mutt' into a screaming match at every opportunity?"

"No, but I can guess," Anthea pressed a hand over her mouth. Timaeus suspected she was trying really hard not to laugh at him. "Try living with girls who gossip over every little thing. It's why I go to Belinda when I need to get away. That and she's my best friend."

"Does Belinda know she's harboring fugitives?"

"She probably has an idea," the brunette grinned. She grabbed his hand. "Come on, she's expecting us. You have no idea how much she loves sharing her research with someone who's actually interested." Anthea quickened her pace, pulling him the rest of the way.

The library was fairly busy when they got there. Master scholars worked at their desks while apprentices hurried from shelf to self, delivering requested books or replacing used ones.

"Get that noisemaker out of here," one of the masters snapped upon seeing the instrument in Anthea's hand. "This is a library, not a practice hall."

"But I'm not going to be—" she protested.

"No buts," the master cut her off.

"Fine," the brunette relented. She turned to Timaeus. "Go ahead without me. I'll be back soon."

"Hurry back," the tri-color haired squire said. She left the library, leaving him to wander the place alone.

 _Where is she?_ Timaeus knew what Belinda looked like, but she didn't seem to be anywhere. Of course, he had never seen her outside the library, so he really had no idea where else the apprentice scholar would be. "Excuse me," he stopped one of the apprentices, a boy his age with messy brown hair. "I'm looking for Apprentice Belinda. Have you seen her?"

"She left for lunch hours ago," the apprentice said. "I'm kind of surprised she hasn't come back yet. I was just by the place she usually studies, and it was deserted. She better hope Master Gerard doesn't find out she's gone. He already doesn't like her."

"Why?" Anthea always spoke so highly of her friend. Why would anyone dislike her?

"She spends most of her free time researching the Dominion of the Beasts," the apprentice answered. "I don't really get it. I mean, it's a made-up land meant to amuse children. But Belinda is always trying to prove it really does exist. She scours the books for any reference to it. Master Gerard has a particular dislike of the subject, and for some reason he's aligned that with her, so he hates them both equally."

"Sounds like he's not very open-minded," Timaeus muttered. He reflexively rubbed his healed eye, proof there was truth to what the girls were researching.

"I can agree to that," the apprentice nodded. "Especially since I've overheard him say some choice words about the common-born squire His Majesty accepted. Though, I'm guessing you know all about him."

 _So that's two people I know that this Master Gerard dislikes._ "Yeah, I do," Timaeus answered. "That common-born squire is one of my teammates and my friend."

"I don't have anything against him," the apprentice said. "If His Majesty thinks he's okay, then he's okay by me. Anyway, is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, I'll just keep looking for Belinda," Timaeus told him. "Her friend Anthea should be coming back soon, and she might have a better idea of where she went."

"If you want to wait for the muse, I can take you to where she and Belinda usually study," the apprentice offered. "I'm glad Belinda has a friend, but I don't get what those two are always so secretive about when they study together."

"I couldn't tell you," Timaeus shrugged. "Anthea just invited me to study with them today, so I really don't know." Not to mention she swore him to secrecy on what little he did know.

"Well it's up this way," the apprentice led him up to the third floor of the library. In a back corner, nestled against a window was a table with a variety of books. Timaeus recognized some of words from Anthea's book the previous day. "Again, I don't get why she's so interested in a made up land, but she works hard at it. I can respect that. Now, if you'll excuse me, Mistress Emelyn will be wondering where I am."

"Thank you," Timaeus took the window seat at watched the apprentice leave. He glanced to the books, tempted to read them. _Better not. Belinda may have them sorted a certain way if she researches as seriously as that guy says._ He turned his gaze to the window, watching servants, warriors, and aristocrats go about their business. Timaeus spotted a familiar blond squire heading into a courtyard. _There goes Critias. He and Hermos must have called it quits for now._

"Still no sign of her?" Timaeus jumped at the sound of Anthea's voice. She laughed. "Who knew squires could be so jumpy?"

"Shut up," Timaeus rolled his eyes at the muse-in-training. "I think I know why you two study up here. No one really comes by."

"So how'd you find it?" Anthea raised an eyebrow at him.

"Another apprentice showed me the way," he answered. "So where is she?"

"I don't know," Anthea looked around the area. "She's always here when I come by. I'm actually a little worried."

"Do you want to go look for her?" Timaeus suggested.

"I wouldn't know where to start," she admitted. "Deities, you must think I'm a terrible friend. I don't even know where her quarters are."

"Don't beat yourself up," the squire said. "I'm sure she's fine. Maybe she's just tracking down a new lead on that Dominion place she studies."

"You know about that?" the muse-in-training turned to him.

"The apprentice who showed me this place said she studies it," Timaeus answered. "He didn't know much beyond that."

"Well I might as well show you what we've got," Anthea reached for the book on the top of the stack. "And remember, this doesn't leave the three of us. You, Belinda, and I are the only ones who know this."

"I get it," Timaeus leaned in to look at the book. "So where do we start?"

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Belinda stood on the highest balcony of the castle. Far below, she could see the people going about their business. _They never look up. I should be able to do this without too much notice._ The wind blew her long, pale hair in her face, making it hard to read the pages of her book.

 _Focus._ She closed her eyes, memorizing the chant for the spell she'd found. If it worked, she could make contact with the Dominion. Part of her felt guilty; Anthea should be there too, but, after all their other failures, Belinda didn't want to get the muse's hopes up again. It was just one experiment, and then she'd head to meet Anthea and her squire friend.

She began the chant, envisioning a creature from the other world. Long, large winged, reptilian eyes. The creatures from the illustrations in the books about the Dominion. Her body tingled with the power. The chant finished, and the power built more, making her feel like she was on fire, her bones melting within. _This wasn't supposed to happen!_

Belinda pushed away from the railing, and then she was floating. The burning pain subsided to a dull ache. She looked down to find herself high above the castle, the people little specks on the ground. _What?_ She glanced to her hands and gasped. They were covered in pink scales, and her fingers extended to long claws. She tried to reach for something, but everything kept moving away from her.

Then she was falling, the ground approaching at an alarming rate. Belinda's vision flashed pink, and everything went black.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

"Look out!"

"What is that thing?"

"Is it a dragon?"

Critias tensed as the servants and aristocrats screamed and ran for cover. High above the castle, a large pink creature flew haphazardly through the air. Critias drew his sword, ready to fight the creature alone if he had to. He would show the mutt once and for all he was the better warrior by defending the castle.

The creature came crashing toward the ground. Halfway there, it flashed with pink light, blinding the squire for an instant. When he could see again, the creature was gone, and a girl was hurtling towards the ground, her pale hair flying wildly. Critias assessed her descent and leaped to catch her, spending them both sprawling to the ground. "Are you okay?" he asked the girl on top of him.

She didn't answer.

Fearing for her well-being, Critias carefully got out from under her and pulled her into his arms. She was breathing, and he took that as a good sign. Her tangled, pale-pink hair covered most of her face, and she wore a simple pink gown with a white sash. She couldn't have been any older than he was. _I've seen her. She's always in the library._

He looked around. Everyone had fled at the sight of the creature, and he had a feeling this girl had something to do with it. But she was in no shape to answer any of his questions. Critias sheathed his sword. Being as gentle as he could, Critias gathered the girl into his arms and headed for the infirmary. Knowing how palace gossip could travel, he took the lesser travelled corridors, keeping an eye out for any nosy servants along the way.

Critias thanked the Deities that the door was open when he arrived. "Mistress Alfreda?" he called to the head healer when he spotted her.

"Oh my," Mistress Alfreda said when she saw them. "What happened to her?"

"I don't know," the blond admitted. "You could say she fell out of the sky."

"Squire Critias, I expect a serious answer," the healer raised an eyebrow at him.

"I am being serious," he stared her down. "I was in the courtyard and she came falling out of nowhere. I think she may have gone over one of the upper balconies." He decided to leave out the pink creature for the time being. He wanted answers out of the girl before rumors started to fly more than they already would from when it was spotted.

"Do you know who she is?" Mistress Alfreda.

"I know she works in the library, but that's it," Critias answered.

"Then, please, go there and get one of the masters," the healer instructed. "Whoever her master is should know she's here."

"Yes, Mistress," Critias stood at attention and left the girl to be cared for.

He headed straight for the library and pulled aside the first apprentice he found, a boy with messy brown hair. "Is one of the apprentices missing? A girl with long, pale hair?"

"Belinda," the apprentice's eyes widened. "Is she okay?"

"She's in the infirmary," the squire told him.

"Deities, what happened?" the apprentice's brown eyes widened.

"Don't know," Critias gestured for him to follow.

"Hold on one second," the apprentice glanced toward the stairs. "Her two friends are upstairs. Let me go get them."

Critias was surprised to see Timaeus and the girl from yesterday come running down the stairs. He smirked to himself when he saw Anthea tightly holding Timaeus's hand as they ran passed him. She didn't even stop to acknowledge him, but Critias could see the look of surprise on his leader's face as the duo raced by. Smirking to himself, he followed the two back to the infirmary.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

"Belinda!"

Timaeus flexed his fingers as Anthea finally let him go. The brunette shot to her friend's side. That girl had a death grip.

"She'll be fine," Mistress Alfreda assured the muse-in-training and squires. "It seems she overworked herself. A couple of days of bed rest and she'll be good as new."

"Thank the Deities," Anthea sighed.

"If you want to stay with her, I'll go clean up the study area," Timaeus offered.

"Thanks, Timaeus," Anthea smiled at him

He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head and looked away, feeling a little heat in his cheeks. _What am I doing?_ "See you tomorrow?"

"If Belinda's better," she answered. "Is that okay?"

"That's fine," he assured her. "I'll just find another spot to hide out."

"Hide out from what?" Critias raised an eyebrow at him.

"Inside joke," Anthea laughed. The blond narrowed his eyes at her. "Thanks for everything, Timaeus. And thank you for helping Belinda, Critias."

"Yeah, yeah," Critias turned and left the infirmary.

Timaeus followed him. "So how long have you been courting the muse?" Critias asked.

The tri-color haired squire blinked indigo eyes at him. "Courting? Critias, I met her yesterday."

"She seems fond of you," the blond smirked.

"Shut up," Timaeus rolled his eyes. "I'm going to go clean up our area. I'll see you back at quarters."

"Sure," Critias strode down the hallway, heading straight for the squires' wing. Rolling his eyes at his teammate, Timaeus went off in the opposite direction to clean their study area.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Critias sprawled on the sofa in their quarters. He breathed in the relative quiet. It was fine when Timaeus was around, but the mutt just would not shut up. It was way too easy to yank his chain.

 _Speak of the devil._ At that moment, the red-haired dog strode into the room, a look of pure bliss spread across his face. It disappeared the moment he saw Critias. "What's with the look, mutt?" Critias taunted him. "Did you find a knight willing to throw you a few bones?"

"Shut it, Noble Boy," Hermos glared at him. "It ain't your business."

"Does it have anything to do with where you go to lick your wounds every day?" the blond continued with the fact Hermos disappeared every afternoon.

"I'm not doing this, Noble Boy," Hermos scowled and shut himself in his room.

 _Too easy._ Critias smirked, enjoying how easy it was to push the redhead's buttons. _Timaeus had a similar look when talking to that muse._ He rolled his eyes at his teammates' follies. Apparently both of them were losing their heads to girls. Well, Timaeus's was a girl. He had no idea who or what attracted the mutt's attention.

He closed his eyes, and the pink creature from earlier filled his mind. What was it? Where did it go? And what did it have to do with that Belinda girl? He couldn't shake the feeling the creature and girl were connected, but it wasn't possible. Creatures like that were supposed to be a myth. Yet one had appeared, and several people saw it. _Tomorrow, I'm getting answers out of that girl. And Timaeus's muse if I have to as well._

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Belinda gasped and bolted upright. She dreamt her body was changing, scales covering her skin and wings protruding from her back. She pressed a hand to her forehead to fend off dizziness. She blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to dim lighting of the room, and got a good look at her hand. Her normal, pale, skin-covered hand. Her pale hair fell in messy waves over her shoulders. Belinda reached behind herself, feeling nothing out of the ordinary on her back. She breathed a sigh of relief, letting her racing heart calm.

"Belinda?" She turned to find Anthea rubbing her eyes next to her bed. A glance around helped her recognize the infirmary. Anthea blinked her bright blue eyes, taking in Belinda's condition. "You're okay!" The brunette threw her arms around her friend. "I was so worried about you! What happened?"

"I… I'm not really sure," Belinda looked to her hands again. "I went to try a new spell, and I think it backfired. That or I didn't translate the effects correctly."

"I thought we agreed no experimenting without the other," Anthea frowned.

"I know," Belinda apologized. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want to get your hopes up again. It was supposed to be just one try. And Timaeus isn't mad, is he?"

"I think he was more worried about you," the brunette answered. "He's not going to shun us, if that's what you're worried about. Besides, his teammate was the one who found you."

"Really?"

"Yep," Anthea grinned. "If you ask me, he seemed really interested in you."

"Please," Belinda rolled her eyes. "I'm sure he saw me as nothing more than a damsel-in-distress."

"But isn't that what knights go for?" the brunette laughed. "Anyway, I'll let you get some rest. I'll be by tomorrow as soon as I can."

"Thank you. Good night, Anthea."

"Good night, Belinda."

 _ **So what exactly did Belinda's spell do? And where does Hermos go every day? That's for me to know, and you guys to find out. :-D Anyway, unlike with this chapter, I had a burst of inspiration for the next chapter of this, so I'm going to double up on this story instead of going to the next in my update schedule. Check out my profile for my list of updates, and I'll see you later.**_


	7. Magical Mishap

_**Okay, when I said I knew what was going to happen in this chapter, I honestly thought it would only be a week or two before I updated it. It also morphed from what I originally had in mind. Also, I'm going to thank Junior BLD for reminding how old Dartz was when he took the throne. I had to adjust my timeline slightly, but I do want this to follow what little of the canon events we know.**_

 _ **Anyway, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! I only own Anthea, Belinda, Circe, and any other characters not introduced in the anime. If I did own this, we'd see more of Dartz's interactions with his people.**_

Chapter Seven: Magical Mishap

"How do they make sense of this?"

Timaeus scratched the back of his head as he studied the tome the girls had given him. Belinda had recovered a few weeks ago, and she and Anthea had spent the time since trying to teach Timaeus what they had been studying. The two girls had proven he had some power like them, but he had no ear for the chants needed to cast their spells. Belinda resorted to writing translations so he could understand what he was trying to do, but it didn't help much. _I have wonder if there's a reason no one uses this anymore._

"Shut it, Noble Boy!"

"Make me, _mutt_."

Timaeus slapped his forehead as his teammates descending into squabbling. _Again?_ He took a breath to tune them out and resumed his reading. The translation of one spell caught his eye. _Turn mutual hate and spite into admiration and respect._ He glanced to his closed door, which did nothing to muffle the other two's yelling. _It's worth a try._

As quietly as he could—not that it would matter too much since nothing could be heard over Critias and Hermos—Timaeus crept over and opened his door. Focusing on the two squires, he read the chant. The area around the blond and redhead glowed a faint teal, and the bickering died. Critias and Hermos stared at each other, completely silent. _Did it work?_

They threw their arms around each other, holding on as tight as they could. "Critias, why were we fighting?" Hermos asked.

"I don't know," Critias answered. "But you have my sincerest apologies. I cannot believe I would say such cruel things."

"It's all right," Hermos squeezed the blond tighter. "Just know I'm glad you're here."

 _Great Deities of Atlantis, what have I done?_ Timaeus panicked as his teammates' heads got closer together. "Guys!" he forced a smile on his face and put an arm around each of them, prying them apart. "So have you finished the logistics assignment yet?"

"I… I'm kind of stuck on it," Hermos admitted.

"I'll be glad to help you," Critias smiled and gripped the redhead's hand.

"We'll both be glad to help," Timaeus butted in, afraid to actually leave the two alone. "Just give me one minute."

The squire stepped outside their quarters. _I need the girls to come help._ He spotted a page rounding the corner. "Page!" he called to the boy. The page turned to face his senior. "I need you to find Lady Anthea. She should be with the muses-in-training."

"All right," the page nodded. "Is there a message I should give her?"

"Tell her Timaeus has a question about the book she lent him."

"Will do," the page turned and hurried down the hallway.

 _Please hurry._ Timaeus braced himself and stepped back into his room, hoping Anthea could fix this.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

"Lady Anthea!" The brunette turned to see a page running up to her.

"What is it?" she asked, stepping away from the other muses to speak with the boy.

"Squire Timaeus asked me to find you," the page said. "He said he has a question about the book you lent him."

 _Oh no._ Anthea mentally groaned. _What did he try?_ "Thank you," she reached into her coin purse and offered the boy a silver crown for his trouble. Confirming the other girls were still wrapped up in their conversation, she walked away from them. Once she was around the corner, she took off running to the squires' quarters.

Outside, she could hear the squires arguing, but the other two seemed to be fighting Timaeus. _I thought Critias and Hermos hated each other?_ She knocked on the door.

The door opened, revealing a nervous Timaeus. "Thank the Deities you're here," he said and pulled her inside.

"What did you do?" Anthea raised an eyebrow at him.

"I tried a spell to get them to stop arguing," Timaeus rubbed the back of his head. "Since then, if I leave them alone, that happens." He pointed to his teammates. They held each other by the shoulders, and their faces were getting closer together. "Guys, logistics assignment!"

"But—" they both turned sad eyes on him.

"NOW!" he cut them off. The boys pouted and turned their attention to a book next to them. They held hands as they read the book.

"Did you read the effects before you cast it?" Anthea asked.

"The spell was the only thing on the page."

"Turn the page, you idiot!" she smacked the back of his head. "The warnings and effects come _after_ the spells!"

"Okay, okay," the squire rubbed where he'd been hit and handed her the book. "The spell said it would turn hate into respect."

Anthea scanned the spell, comparing it to Belinda's translations. "You're partially right. This word Belinda has translated into admiration can also mean love. There are no exact translations for these."

"So…?"

"So you cast a love spell on them."

"Curses," Timaeus sighed. "So how do we fix it?"

"I don't know," Anthea closed the book. "There's a chance it will wear off on its own, but the book doesn't say for sure. We'd better find Belinda and get her here."

"Do you want to go find her, and I'll keep these two in line?" Timaeus suggested.

"I'm not telling her you messed up," Anthea frowned. "I already have to get her to fix my own mistakes. You get to tell her about your own."

"Well we can't leave them alone!"

"Leave that to me," Anthea smirked and turned her attention to the other two boys. They had strayed from their assignment again and were whispering to each other, their gazes locked. Chanting the spell softly under her breath, she pressed her pointer to her temple. Hermos froze.

Critias noticed the change immediately. "Hermos? What is it, my friend?"

"Grab him!" Anthea directed Timaeus. "Toss him in his room!"

"Right," the tri-color haired squire grabbed his blond teammate.

"Timaeus, what are you doing?" Critias struggled against his leader's grasp.

"Trust me, this is for your own good," Timaeus answered and shoved the blond into his room. Anthea pressed herself against the door—since it opened outwards—and struggled against Critias trying to force it open. Timaeus shoved the couch over to her. Anthea moved out of the way, and Timaeus barred the door with the furniture.

Anthea let out a breath and dropped her hand, freeing Hermos from her spell. "What happened?" he blinked and looked around. "Where'd Critias go? I need him!"

"Round Two," Timaeus sighed. He hauled the redhead to his feet and shoved him into the room opposite Critias. Anthea pushed one of the desks in front of it, locking the redhead inside.

"How well do these walls muffle sound?" Anthea asked as the captives began calling to each other.

"Not at all," Timaeus rubbed his temples.

"Luckily there's one other spell I've mastered," Anthea stood in front of Critias's door and cast a spell. When she finished, the blond's cries for Hermos were silenced. She did the same thing to Hermos's door, quieting the redhead's as well. "That should keep anyone from hearing them while we go find Belinda. It'll break when we open the door."

Timaeus grabbed the book from his room. He locked the door, and the two took off running for the library. "How'd you master those?" he asked as they ran.

"Necessity," Anthea answered. "I hate practicing when other people can hear me. That solved that problem. And sometimes temporarily freezing someone is a good distraction for me to escape the other girls."

"Ah," Timaeus understood the brunette's method as they rounded the corner. He almost collided with someone, and barely managed to skid to a stop in front of them. Anthea crashed into him. Timaeus's balance was the only thing that kept them from falling over.

"Watch where you're going, squire," their almost-victim snapped at them. Her violet eyes narrowed at them from beneath her strawberry blonde bangs. She wore a soot-stained apron over a purple dress that hugged her figure. Timaeus couldn't help but think she'd be very pretty if she didn't have such a sour expression.

"I'm sorry, Lady…" Timaeus had no idea who the woman was.

"Circe," she pursed her lips at them. "And don't bother with the 'Lady.' You boys never have before."

"I assure you, I meant no offense," the squire raised his hands in defense.

"Just tell me where I can find Squire Hermos," Circe crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

 _Hermos?_ "Y-You don't want to see him right now," Timaeus needed the woman to stay away from his spelled teammates.

"Don't think you can use your title to put him down," Circe's scowl deepened. "I've already dealt with three of you idiots calling him 'mongrel.' If you want to make it four, I'll knock you on your butt right now."

"That's not what I meant," Timaeus glanced to the sword sheath clipped to her waist. He needed an excuse, fast.

"He's ill," Anthea chimed in. "Sick as a dog. Both him and his teammate, Critias. Timaeus and I are on our way to get Mistress Alfreda to look at them."

Circe looked less angry and more concerned with that. "Is Hermos all right?"

"I'm sure Mistress Alfreda will fix them up, no problem," the brunette brushed off the woman's concern. "But I seriously would stay away. You don't want to catch it."

"All right," Circe turned her attention back to Timaeus. "You're not the teammate that gives him a hard time, are you?"

"No," he answered. "That would be the third member of our team. I'm the leader who can't get them to stop fighting."

"I see," Circe looked him over before turning away. "Tell Hermos I hope he feels better, and I'll be at my shop when he recovers."

"Sure," Timaeus said.

"See you around, kids." With that, Circe walked away from the teenagers.

"What was that about?" Anthea asked.

"I really don't know," Timaeus answered. "But I think I have an idea of where Hermos goes to get away."

"Anyway, let's go find Belinda, unless you want your teammates to stay lovestruck fools." Anthea grabbed Timaeus's hand, and they took off running again.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

"Let's see," Belinda brushed her finger over the passage in the book she studied. It was supposed to be on seer magic. She hadn't figured out any of the actual spells—most of them were actual predictions foreseen. Compared to the history books, this Orical must have been really good. Sure, many of his visions didn't come true until years after his death, but he was never wrong. Ridiculed in his time, but always correct.

" _Green stones will descend from the sky, bringing great power and prosperity… Darkness will taint the people's hearts… A Leviathan will rise, powered by the souls of beasts… Three warriors chosen to wield the Blades of Justice, Wisdom, and Renewal will unite to fight the Great Beast and its champions of Paradius… And thus Atlantis will rise and fall._ This was Orical's last prediction," Belinda flipped through the history books, searching for any reference to the green stones, Leviathan, or the three Blades. "Nothing. Could this be one that hasn't come true yet? How far into the future could he really see?"

"Are you wasting your time on that fairy tale nonsense again?" Belinda stiffened at the sound of Master Gerard's voice. She turned around to see the master scholar glaring at her. It was no wonder the older man had never married—it didn't take long for any of his suitors to see past his dark hair, darker eyes, and fine features and find his uptight and sour personality.

"I-I'm studying Atlantis's history," she stuttered. It wasn't a lie.

"And comparing it to the Myth of the Oracle?" Master Gerard scowled.

"There's something to this if you would just look!" Belinda snapped, surprising herself. Maybe spending time with Anthea and Timaeus was starting to bolster her courage. "If you compare the dates Orical made his predictions to when they actually happened, you'd see he was right all along!"

"The ravings of a lunatic who got lucky," Master Gerard scoffed.

"I don't know," a new voice said. "I think the apprentice is onto something."

Master and apprentice turned to see a young man standing a few feet away. He crossed his arms and frowned, his golden eyes fixed on Master Gerard. His light blue hair fell to his waist, tied back into a horse tail. His blue shirt and purple tunic were the finest money could buy. "Your Highness," both said at the same time. Master Gerard bowed; Belinda gave the deepest curtsy she could muster.

"Oh, don't let me interrupt the discussion," Prince Dartz gestured for them to stand. "I'm quite fascinated with the connection between our history and the Oracle. Do continue, Apprentice…?"

"Belinda," the pale-haired girl kept her eyes down. Of all the people to take an interest in her work, it had to be the heir to the throne! "Orical had some kind of power to see the future. He was ridiculed in his time because no one believed it existed. As Master Gerard said, most of the people saw him as a raving lunatic. But it seems the liege lord, Baron Reynard, took an interest in Orical's predictions. Enough had come true, and the baron was known to be superstitious.

"What no one really understands is exactly what power Orical had. According to the book on the Myth, there are multiple possibilities. Some say he was blessed by the Deities. Or cursed, based on how well his predictions were received. Others say he would cast some kind of magic that would give him visions. Another possibility is that he had some kind of enchanted item that let him see the future."

"My, that is fascinating," Dartz smiled. "Don't be afraid, my dear. I promise I'm not going to bite you. I like someone who is willing to pursue the truth and learn all the facts."

Belinda felt her face heat up at the young man's praise. "Th-thank you, Your Highness."

"You can't be serious!" Master Gerard protested.

"I am," the prince turned hard golden eyes on the scholar. "Don't think I have heard of _you_ , Master Gerard. You think everyone around you agrees with you, and everyone who doesn't is a misguided moron. I've also heard what you've said about my father for allowing Squire Hermos into the palace. You really should be careful about what you say. You never know who might be listening."

"Your Highness," Master Gerard took a step back.

"I suggest you leave before I really lose my temper," Dartz crossed his arms and frowned at him. "Even if you won't take Apprentice Belinda's research seriously, I'm very interested in what she has to say." The older man scurried off, intimidated by the young prince. Dartz turned back to Belinda. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

"I-It's fine," Belinda kept her head down. "I'm used to it."

"Everyone ignores your work?" Dartz raised an eyebrow.

"N-no," the girl glanced up at the prince before returning her gaze to the table. "I have two friends who help me at times, but they're not scholars. One is training to be a muse and uses our work as inspiration for her songs. The other is a squire."

"Belinda!"

She jumped at the sound of her friend's voice. Looking to the door, she saw Anthea and Timaeus run into the library. Seeing the prince, Anthea skidded to a stop. Timaeus collided into her, sending the duo sprawling on the floor. "That would be them," Belinda felt her face heat up again as Dartz took in the sight of the two teenagers in a heap on the floor.

"Your Highness!" The duo scrambled to their feet to give the prince the proper regard. Anthea gave a graceful curtsy; Timaeus bowed.

"Well that was certainly entertaining," Dartz chuckled.

 _It's easy to forget he's only a few years older than us._ Belinda hid a smile at the prince's reaction. He was only seventeen, but Dartz could intimate even the oldest and most powerful nobles. There was no doubt he would be a great king someday.

"Forgive us," Anthea kept her eyes on the floor. "We didn't mean to interrupt."

"Do not fret," Dartz assured them. "I am not offended. Though I expected a squire to have better reflexes."

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Timaeus bowed again.

"Don't be so serious, squire," Dartz laughed, "But since you two seem to be in a hurry, I will take my leave. Apprentice Belinda, if you make any more breakthroughs with the Myth of the Oracle or your other research, I do hope you'll share with me."

"I will, Your Highness," Belinda promised. "Thank you for your time."

"I look forward to our next discussion," Dartz smiled. He motioned for the other two to be at ease and left the library.

"What was that about?" Anthea asked.

"I'll tell you later," Belinda answered. "More importantly, why were you two racing in here?"

"Ask Timaeus," the brunette hoisted the blame on the squire.

"Hey!" he glared at her. "Okay, I messed up. I need you to fix my partners."

Belinda sighed and rubbed her temples. "What did you do?"

"Love spell," Anthea answered. "Apparently he _can_ cast a spell. He just didn't know what it was."

"Okay, now that we've established I messed up, can we get back to turning my teammates back to normal?" Timaeus asked.

"Let me see the spell," Belinda held out her hand. Timaeus handed her the book. "Okay…" she flipped through the other books. "I think this should do it. It negates all low-level charms and curses." She looked to her friends. "You do realize I have no idea where we're heading, right?"

"Lead the way, squire," Anthea giggled and gestured to Timaeus.

"Very well," he sighed.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

"Ah, there you are Squire Timaeus," Mistress Alfreda stood outside the squires' quarters, a medicinal bag slung over her shoulder.

Belinda stopped running a second after her two friends. "Mistress Alfreda?" Timaeus rubbed the back of his head as he responded to the healer's appearance."

"Yes, I've been knocking on the door for a few minutes, but there's been no answer," she said. "Lady Circe stopped by the infirmary to ask about Squire Hermos's condition. I was surprised to hear that since she said you were coming to get me."

"Uh…" Timaeus looked to the girls.

"We took a wrong turn," Anthea spoke up. "We accidentally ended up at the library instead of the infirmary. Thank you for coming."

Mistress Alfreda raised an eyebrow at them. "I thought you two knew your way around the palace better than that?"

"We weren't paying attention," Anthea answered. "We were in too much of a rush."

"Haste makes waste," the healer gently chastised the muse-in-training.

"We're sorry," the brunette apologized. "I do have a question. Is winterleaf good for all kinds of pain? Or does it only work for specific illnesses?"

"Flora never taught you that?" Mistress Alfreda asked. Anthea shook her head. "Well…"

"Let's go," Timaeus whispered to Belinda and opened the door. While the healer was explaining the effects of herbs, the duo slipped into the quarters.

Timaeus led her to a desk barricading a door. "Hermos is on the other side. Can you break the spell as soon as I open it?"

Belinda flipped the book open and reread the counter spell. "I should. Are you ready?" She held her hand up, ready to cast her magic.

He nodded and pushed the desk away from the door. "Critias!" Hermos rasped and stumbled out of the room. Belinda cast the spell, and the air turned a faint pink around the redheaded squire. The light faded, and Hermos blinked. "What happened?" he coughed.

"No time to explain," Timaeus said.

Belinda flipped the page and cast another spell. Hermos's eyes fluttered closed, and he fell forward. Timaeus caught him before he hit the ground. "What happened to his voice?" she asked.

"He's probably been yelling since we left," he answered. "How long will that spell last?"

"It's weak enough, an hour at most," she explained. "You get him into bed. Is the door with the couch in front of it Critias's?"

Timaeus nodded and hauled Hermos back into his room. Belinda raced over to the barricaded door. She pushed against the couch, but it was too heavy for to move. She flipped through her book and found a spell to push it forward. It slammed against the wall, but at least it stayed upright. "Everything okay?" Timaeus asked.

"Yeah, sorry," she called back.

The door burst open, revealing the spelled blond squire. "Hermos!" he croaked.

Belinda cast the counter spell again, turning the area pink. She pushed him back into the room as the light of her magic faded. Critias blinked navy eyes. "What's going on?" His gaze locked on hers. "You! What are you doing here?"

"T-Timaeus asked me over," she looked to her feet.

A hand reached under her chin and lifted her face, forcing her to look the squire in the eye. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm a scholar," she flinched under Critias's glare. "My name is Belinda."

"You're hiding something," he let go and rubbed his throat as he volume decreased. "I don't know what, but you are. And I know it has something to do with that creature. And if that creature is a threat to Atlantis, then I'll stop it and you."

 _Creature?_ "W-what creature?"

"The day you collapsed, a winged creature appeared above the palace," Critias narrowed his eyes. "Then it was gone, and there you were. That's some coincidence."

Did her spell actually bring one of the Beasts to Atlantis? "I don't know what you're talking about," Belinda tried to keep her expression calm and pushed the squire away. "I don't know anything about any creature."

The suspicion didn't leave Critias's eyes. Knowing time was running out, she cast her sleep spell on him, and he fell forward onto her. Unable to compensate for his greater height and weight, they both crashed to the floor. "Timaeus!" she called to her friend.

The summoned squire ran into the room followed by Anthea and Mistress Alfreda. "What happened?" the healer asked.

Belinda felt her face go red as ever looked at her on the floor next to the unconscious squire. "H-he just collapsed," she squeaked. Timaeus knelt down and pulled his teammate's arm over his shoulder. Hauling him up, he laid Critias on the bed.

Mistress Alfreda stood over the downed squire and placed a hand on his forehead. "He doesn't seem to have a fever. That's a good sign."

"He was hoarse," Belinda offered as she stood up, keeping her eyes on the ground. "Like his voice was giving out."

"I see," the healer took a bottle from her bag. "Warm tea with a couple drops of this will help him recover his voice. What about Squire Hermos?"

"He was the same," Timaeus answered. "He woke up for a little bit, but he could barely talk."

"Let me see him," Mistress Alfreda instructed. Timaeus led her into the other room, leaving the girls alone.

Belinda took a shaky breath and hugged herself. Critias's words played over and over in her head. A creature had appeared. Where was it? Did it return to the Dominion? Or was it still wandering around the city?

"Hey," Anthea placed a hand on each of her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"You remember that day I tried a spell and it didn't work?" Belinda asked. "And then I wound up in the infirmary?"

"Yeah?"

"The spell was supposed to bring someone from the Dominion here. I thought it didn't work, but Critias says he saw something. Then it vanished, and he found me."

"So what?" Anthea asked. "Are you saying you actually brought one here?"

"I don't know," Belinda bit her lip. "That's what scares me."

 _ **By the way, yes, that was meant to be a**_ **Dr. Strange _reference when Anthea chastised Timaeus. This was originally going to be a more fluff chapter, and it ended up setting more of the serious plot elements. Also, we finally met Dartz! Yay!_**

 ** _I am sad to say it will probably be a while before I update this again. I have to go on to Curse of Anubis and then my other stories. Check out my profile for my the order of my upcoming updates. Thanks for reading!_**


	8. Troubles of a Smith

_**So I was supposed to update A Dragon's Destiny next, but I hit a severe case of writer's block. I'm going to blame Kaiba because he doesn't like to do what I say. Then again, does Kaiba ever do what other people say? On another note, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post this as well. Losing access to my laptop really dropped my writing speed. Hopefully I can get my new cord from my brother within the week.**_

 _ **Anyway, I sadly still do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! If I did, the Legendary Dragon/Knight cards would have been released a lot sooner. But alas, I only own the characters who are not Knights or Royal Family.**_

Chapter Eight: Troubles of a Smith

Circe thrust the red-hot blade into the bucket of water. Steam rose from the bucket as the metal cooled. She pulled it out and smiled at the new blade. Sir Leopold would be pleased with it indeed.

A ring sounded from the counter, indicating she had a customer. Circe set the blade down and wiped the sweat off her forehead. Stretching her arms, she turned to greet the familiar blond teen. "Squire Critias, is it time to repair your father's armor again?"

"Why else would I come?" the blond rolled his eyes.

"Are you going to tell him where you take it this time?" she asked.

"You know I can't," Critias scowled at him. "Why do you keep asking me?"

"Because I keep hoping the answer will change," she placed a hand on her hip as she eyed the squire. "Look, it's natural for me to want my hard work to be acknowledged, and I appreciate an honest compliment as much as the next person. But, really, I have nothing to prove to you or him. I'm comfortable with who I am, and the only approval I need is a happy customer—because happy customers mean I have more business and can keep the place open. But can you live with lying to your old man about this? Because we both know how he brags about what good work Master Endel does on his prized armor. And Master Endel nearly ruined it the one time you took it to him."

"I know," Critias scowled. "And that's the only reason I keep coming back to you."

"That's all I need, kid," Circe smirked. "A good product is worth far more than bum kissing will ever be. And maybe if people stopped kissing your old man's, it'd give him an opportunity to remove that stick lodged up it."

The squire narrowed his navy eyes. "This is why you don't have more customers." He turned to leave. "I trust it will be ready in the usual time."

"I'm already planning its pickup," Circe grinned and waved. _That kid's gotta learn sometime._ Not that she would ever admit it to Hermos, but Circe had a soft spot for her friend's teammate and rival. From what she could tell, they were in a similar boat. Impossible-to-please parents were never easy to deal with.

"Do you have any idea who that was?" a sour female voice nagged. Circe turned to the source—a woman wearing a fine green dress that hugged her figure and accented her red hair and green eyes.

Circe resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, _Mother_ ," she answered, bracing herself for another argument. "Squire Critias is a regular." She already felt the headache coming on that accompanied interactions with her mother.

"He is the son of Duke Aron, His Majesty's most trusted advisor!" her mother scowled. "And you treated him like he was a commoner! Do you realize he could have this place shut down?"

"Mother, it's _fine_ ," Circe insisted. "Critias has been here often enough I don't need to put on airs with him. We have an understanding. Now, are you going to let me work, or did you need something?"

"I arranged a meeting with a suitor," the redhead answered. "I expect you home early this afternoon."

"No," Circe scowled, tossing a lock of hair over her shoulder. "Mother, I've already told you I'm not interested in any suitors. Besides, the shop doesn't close until evening."

"You don't need to run the shop," her mother narrowed her eyes. "It's not a lady's job to do this. Please. Just do as I say for once. You don't need to run this place."

"Well there's no one else who will!" Circe snapped. "Father dedicated his life to this. Everybody always said he was the best they ever knew. I won't let his legacy just die."

"You weren't the one who was supposed to take over," her mother pleaded.

"But I'm all that there is," Circe glared at her mother. "You already made me give up one dream. I'm not giving up another."

Violet and green eyes stared each other down, waiting for the other to blink. "What do you expect me to say?" her mother asked.

"I don't know," Circe threw up her hands. "You never seem to listen to me anyway. Can't you just trust I know what I'm doing?"

"But you don't," her mother scowled. "If you did, you wouldn't keep fighting this."

"Good day, Mother," Circe turned her back and began inspecting Duke Aron's armor. Really, there wasn't much that needed done. A little reshaping and a good polishing would make it good as new.

Her mother huffed and walked away. _Good riddance._ Circe grumbled and set aside the duke's armor for the time being. She had to finish Sir Leopold's sword first. Not mention working would make her forget about her mother. Carefully, she picked up the blade she had quenched just before Critias arrived. Okay, it looks good. She inspected the metal for any signs of warping, chipping, or other damage. Needs a little sharpening, and the handle could use a better grip. Circe set to work on the handle first, shaping it so it fit more comfortably in the hand.

Her mother's nagging played in the back of her head as she worked. _Why won't she listen? Father would have._ Circe set the sword down as memories forced their way to the front of her mind.

 _"Papa!" Circe threw herself into her father's arms, inhaling the scent of sweat and soot. "I want to learn how to make things too!"_

 _He scooped her up and twirled her around. "And what do you want to make?" he asked, his violet eyes crinkling as he smiled._

 _"I want to make a sword!" she declared. "Then I can use it to fight bad guys like the knights do!"_

 _He chuckled and brushed soot from his blond hair. "You would make a fine knight. I can see it already. Lady Knight Circe, Defender of Atlantis. You'll be the warrior to my smith."_

 _"What does that mean, Papa?" she asked._

 _"There is a balance between the weapon makers and the weapon users," he answered. He pulled a dagger off the nearby. "See this?" he held it out to her. "Go ahead, take it."_

 _Circe carefully gripped the hilt between her hands. "When a smith designs a weapon, he—or she—must understand what its purpose will be," he explained. "Is meant to thrust or slash? How much reach does it need? Can it defend as well as attack? The smith must know all of this before putting metal to flame. On the other side, the warrior must understand what a weapon was designed to do in order to effectively use it. They cannot take a weapon meant to thrust and use it to slash. They must trust the weapon and the smith who designed it."_

 _"I'd trust anything you made, Papa," she said. "You make the best things."_

 _"That I do," he took the dagger from her and pulled her into a hug._

Circe brushed away the tears that welled in her eyes. _Keep it together._ She refused to let anyone see her vulnerable. It would just give her mother and everyone else who said she couldn't do this leverage against her. She wasn't going to kiss rears or marry someone because it was customary. She would keep her father's shop open, no matter what anyone said. Even if she had to do it completely alone.

"Hey, Cirs!"

She let herself smile at the sound of the voice. Probably the most earnest person she'd ever met, Hermos always managed to brighten her day. But he didn't need to know her problems. He had enough to worry about.

Circe stood and turned to greet the redheaded squire. "Hey, Her—" her head spun, and she reached for the counter to steady herself. _Pull it together, Circe!_

"Hey, you okay?" Hermos was by her before she realized it. He peered into her face. "You don't look so good."

"I'm fine," she brushed off his concern and looked away.

"No, you're not. Your face is pale," Hermos placed a hand on her forehead. "You're burning up. Come on." He gently led her to the back of the shop. She really didn't have much there—mostly backup equipment and simple furnishings for her to work in when the weather turned bad. Spotting the couch and blanket she used when sleeping in the shop, Hermos sat her down and wrapped the blanket around her. "Do you have any medicines around here? Willow bark or winter leaf?"

Circe shook her head. "Hermos, I'm okay." She had to be ready for customers. Maybe his interest in the shop's weapons would work in her favor. "You want to see the sword I'm making for Sir Leopold?" She moved to get up.

"No!" he yelled. Circe shrank back into the blanket. Hermos never raised his voice at her. Pain filled his golden eyes. "I'm sorry," he bowed his head. "But, please, just humor me, okay, Cirs?"

"All right," she relented. Hermos smiled, but the worry stayed in his eyes. Circe's head started to hurt more, so she lay down and pulled the blanket up to her neck.

"I'll be right back," Hermos headed towards the front of the shop. A few minutes later he returned with a bucket and clean rag. "I sent for Mistress Alfreda. She'll make you better in no time. Just rest until then." Hermos dunked the rag into the bucket of water and wrung it out.

Circe closed her eyes as it was placed on her forehead. "You're good at this," she said. It did feel really good.

"I had a lot practice," he admitted, his gaze dropping to the bucket. "My little sister used to get sick all the time. I was the one who took care of her."

Circe bit her lip as she pondered what to say. After all the time they've spent together, he never shared anything about his family. Not that she could take the high road on that. "What's her name?" she finally asked.

"Eliana," he answered. "Ellie for short." Circe didn't miss the sadness in his eyes as he spoke. "She's the reason I decided to become a knight. To be a hero for her."

"I'm sure she's proud of you," she offered. "Believe it or not, you've improved a lot in these last few months. I can tell when we spar."

"It's thanks to you, Cirs," Hermos gave her a small smile. "I thought had a few tricks, but you've shown me a lot more. And you're way more creative in combos than what we do in class drills. I win all the freestyle bouts." He grinned and pointed to himself with his thumb. "I bet I can even give Noble Boy a run for his money. Show him that fancy aristocrat title of his don't mean anything."

"Show him what you're made of," Circe laughed. Drowsiness hit her, and she felt herself drifting off. The last thing she saw was her friend's warm smile.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Hermos brushed some of the hair out of Circe's face. The smith didn't stir as he rinsed the rag and replaced it. _You'd better be okay, Cirs._ He couldn't imagine losing her. Not after everything else he dealt with.

The bell from the front of the store rang, indicating a customer. _I'd better go see who it is._ Assured that Circe was sound asleep, he headed to the front. "Can I help you?" he asked the newcomer.

Sir Farvald's brown eyes widened when he saw the squire. Hermos didn't think he'd ever seen the big knight so surprised. He barely acknowledged their one victory. "What are you doing here, Squire Hermos?" the knight asked.

"I'm helping out my friend," he answered. "So what can I do for you?"

"I need a new sword," Farvald began describing his preferred length and weight. Thanks to all the time he spent with Circe, he was able to understand just what the knight needed and found one among Circe's finished products.

"Is this what you're looking for?" Hermos offered the weapon to the knight.

Farvald took it and stepped away from the counter, giving it a few swings. "This is perfect."

"Great!" Hermos grinned and pulled out Circe's ledger. Finding the sword's notes, he marked it sold and collected the money from the knight. "And that should do it." He closed the book.

"Thank you, Squire Hermos," Farvald nodded to him. "And for what it's worth, I think you helping out here is good. You'll get a feel for the equipment the others won't. Lady Circe has a way of perfectly matching weapon with warrior. It's uncanny, really. And you pretty much pulled the same with this."

"She is the best," Hermos smiled. "I only know this because she explains them so well. When I become knight, I'm going to ask her to design my sword and armor."

"And she'll do a marvelous job with it," Farvald chuckled. "I'll see you in training."

"Will do," Hermos waved. "Thank you for your business."

The knight waved and headed back to the palace. Hermos began straightening up while he waited for Mistress Alfreda to come.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Circe shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around her. Blinking, she found an older woman with grey hair pulled into a bun. "Mistress Alfreda?"

"How do you feel?" the healer asked.

"I'm okay," the smith sat up. "Thank you for coming, but I really should get back to work."

"Squire Hermos is minding the shop," Mistress Alfreda told her. "He seems to have a good understanding of what your customers need. Not one has complained about him."

"That's good," she spotted the squire through the window to the main shop. "But he can't craft the actual orders."

"You will still have time to complete the orders," the healer countered. "Hermos has been taking your recovery time into account with them. Right now, you need to rest. It's only a cold, but if you push yourself before you recover, it will get worse."

"I…" Circe bit her hip.

"What is it?" Mistress Alfreda gently probed.

Her expression was so calm and understanding—so different from Circe's own mother—and without an ounce of judgement. Circe crumbled to the kind woman. "I'm not a member of the smith's guild." She kept her eyes on her blanket and her vision blurred with tears. "They won't let me in, so it's just me here. And if I give them any opportunity to think I can't do this, they'll shut me down. My mother wants me to close so I can marry someone she's picked out for me. And if I let them win and lose the shop, I lose the only thing I have left of my father!" Tears rolled down her cheeks as she spoke all her fears aloud. She wasn't sure if it was the fever or just the need to let it all out that smashed the bottle she kept everything in.

"It's okay," Mistress Alfreda wrapped her arms around the smith and rubbed her back. "Just let it out."

"I still miss him," Circe admitted and wiped her eyes. "I tell people I'm over it, and it doesn't bother me, but I need him. I feel so alone."

"But you're not alone," the healer countered. "That boy working so hard to keep your customers happy is proof of that."

"I don't know why," she looked to her friend again. He remained oblivious to their conversation. "I thought I had him figured out. A squire who was more interested in different weapons than the others. I figured he'd get bored of me eventually, yet he keeps coming. But…" His words about his sister came back to her. _Eliana. What's she like?_ "Maybe I really don't know him that well at all."

"I think you possibly know him the best out of anyone in the palace," Mistress Alfreda said. "Yes, there are his teammates, and while I daresay he and Squire Timaeus are very close, the fact he fights with Squire Critias all the time strains the relationship with all three of them. Here, with you, he is the happiest I've seen him. And believe me; I've seen those boys at their worst. They hold the record of the number of visits to me."

Circe chuckled and dried her eyes. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

"It's hard to keep a secret from a healer," the older woman smiled. "That being said, if you want to know more about Hermos, I suggest you get ready to open up about yourself. Trust works both ways."

"Thank you," Circe bowed her head to the healer. "For everything."

"It's my job," Mistress Alfreda stood up. She gestured to the vial on the table. "Take one dose of that in the morning and at night, get lots of bed rest, and I'll come see you again in a couple of days. And see if someone else can handle the customers if you insist on staying open. Hermos is good, but he does still have his squire duties."

"I know. I'll think about."

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Hermos sighed in relief as he finished writing down the last order. While there was never a line, he never went long without someone ordering something or picking up the finished products. Circe did this every day? And still had the energy to make her awesome weapons and armor? He liked her more and more each day he visited her. Hermos made a mental note to help out more from now on instead of just trying out her stock.

Mistress Alfreda stepped out of the shop. "She'll be fine," the healer said. "But she's not to run the shop until she recovers. I know you're going to be busy with your own duties. But what she really needs is someone to share her burden. And maybe you need the same thing."

"What?" he asked.

"If I have to tell you, then you won't really understand it," Mistress Alfreda raised an eyebrow. "Just know it is better to deal with a problem than avoid it."

"I understand," he nodded. Maybe there were still some things he needed to face. "Thank you, Mistress."

"Glad to help," she smiled. "I hope I don't see you or your teammates for a couple of days."

"We'll try," Hermos rolled his eyes.

"That's all you can do," the healer patted his arm and left the shop, probably headed back to the palace infirmary.

Circe came out a minute later, her blanket wrapped tightly around her. "I thought you're supposed to be in bed," he said.

"In couch is more like it," she rolled her eyes and leaned against the counter. "You know, I thought I had you all figured out. But you surprised me today."

"Thanks, I think?" he eyed her.

"I mean it in a good way," she caught his look. "I'm starting to think I might be able to tell you things I haven't really told anyone else."

"Like what?" Hermos raised an eyebrow at her.

"Like why I can't afford to close the store even for a day," Circe answered.

"I kind of wondered about that," he pushed the pouch of money from the day's earnings toward her. "You seem like you make more than enough to keep going. But you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Thank you, Hermos," she pulled her blanket tighter around her. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

"I'm sorry too," he said. "When I saw you getting sick, it reminded me of Ellie. When she was sick, there wasn't anything I could do to cure her. And the healers there aren't like Mistress Alfeda. They wanted payment before cures. It was a strain on us, but the worst part was seeing her suffer."

Circe's gaze softened. "I can imagine. My father died from illness. It was right before I would have become a squire. I try to remember him when he was well, working here. Not in that sick room wasting away. Being here helps. It's why I can't let this place go."

"You won't have to," Hermos rested a hand on her shoulder. "We'll figure something out. How about I take you home?"

She shook her head. "No, I'll stay here. Just because I can't run the shop while ill doesn't mean I can't recover here."

"You don't have a bed," he said.

"So?" Circe turned away "I've stayed over here more times than I can count. I do it whenever my mother is getting on my case. I can't deal with her right now. She'll just take this as reason for me to close down the store."

"Then why don't you come stay with us?" Hermos suggested. "We each have our own room, and the couch in the study room is really comfy. I'll sleep there, and you can take my room."

"I thought you were against people sleeping on couches?" Circe kept her back to him.

"I never said that," he argued. "And I'm against _sick_ people sleeping on couches."

"What about your teammates?"

"T will be fine with it," the squire brushed it off. "Especially with the situation. And who cares what Noble Boy thinks?" _Please, say yes._

"All right, kiddo," Circe turned to face him. "If only because it's been a while since any has so doggedly cared about me."

"Hey, I ain't a dog," he frowned, but inwardly he was just happy she agreed.

"Relax," she nudged. "I'm not your teammate."

"Thank the Deities," he rolled his eyes.

She laughed. "You know, I'm starting to think you're supposed to be the warrior to my smith."

"What's that mean?" he asked.

"It's something my father used to say," Circe's gaze dropped again. Hermos could imagine the pain she felt remembering him. Probably why she never went into how she learned about the weapons and forging she showed him. "Basically, a balance between the weapon wielder and the weapon maker. When I told him I wanted to be a knight, that's what he said to me. I'm still figuring out exactly what kind of balance he meant."

"Well I'll help you figure it out," Hermos promised. "You're my friend, and friends look out for each other."

"You're an optimist," Circe smiled. "I like that. Now why don't you show me this amazing bed of yours?"

 _ **So yeah, not quite as humorous as last chapter. Fun fact, guys. Mistress Alfreda was originally going to be a one-off character, and she just keeps coming back to me. Now she's been in more chapters than Circe, and Circe is supposed to be one of my leads. Which is partly why this story is taking a slight detour from what I originally planned (I really need to make a more detailed outline). ^^; But I suppose that's the nature of a more character-driven instead of plot-driven story. I promise you guys I know exactly where the story is going and what the fate of each character is going to be. It just might be a bit to get there because I want to take the time to get to know each character and build their bonds with everyone else.**_

 ** _But at this point, the characters are more telling me what to do instead of the other way around. So I suppose I should be glad I'm not getting orders from Dartz at the moment. But at least he can't seal my soul away... yet. XD But if that does happen, do me a favor and call the Knights... or the Pharaoh... or really just anyone who can get me out. Heck, I'll accept a rescue from Yami Bakura as long as he doesn't turn around and send me to the Shadow Realm._**

 _ **Anyhoo, thanks for reading, let me know what you think, and I'll see you next time.**_


	9. Understanding

_**Hey, guys. I know it's been a while since I've visited Atlantis. I hope this update makes up for it. Also, you may have noticed I updated the cover image from the Legend of Heart artwork. The new picture was made using Photoshop, color references from the few images of the Knights we have, and Yami, Joey, and Kaiba's sprites in Duel Links. I may update it again if I make sprites of Anthea, Belinda, and Circe I'm satisfied with.**_

 _ **Speaking of my three leading ladies, they're the only things I completely own. And I guess I own the subplots in this too. But I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! If I did... okay, I can't come up with something witty, so I'll just point out that this would be canon if I were in charge.**_

Chapter Nine: Understanding

 _If I don't get up now, Mother will come in and nag me._ Circe grumbled and forced herself awake, blinking against the sunshine streaming in from the east window. _Wait…_ The window was supposed to be on the south wall. Then it came back to her; she had spent the night in Hermos's room.

His teammates were reluctant to let her stay, if only because they didn't want the training master to know. Circe could speculate on his reaction, but it was probably best not to find out. It was nice to officially meet Timaeus, since she'd only seen him in passing before. He was a nice kid, and anyone could see the challenge he had at keeping peace between the other two squires. Hermos may be her closest friend, but he could easily get carried away in the heat of the moment.

Someone knocked on the door. "You awake?" Critias's voice sounded from the other side.

"Yeah," Circe straightened her dress and opened the door. Critias stood in his squires' uniform, a navy tunic over a white shirt and black breeches. "I'm not in your way, am I?"

"No," the blond crossed his arms and glanced out the window. "I just want to know if this is going to affect our arrangement."

"I promise your order will be completed on time," Circe smirked. "I won't let you get in trouble with your old man."

"Not entirely my concern," Critias scoffed. "I'm concerned about the mutt finding it in your accounts."

"Oh, I doubt he had time to yesterday," she brushed off his concern. "He was too busy trying to keep up with my customers."

"I meant now," he glared at her. "He went to get your ledger."

"He did?"

"Yeah," Critias grimaced at her. "Timaeus went to get someone he thought could mind your shop for you since you don't have an apprentice. Hermos thought the book would help show him what to do."

"Oh," Circe wasn't quite sure what to say. She wasn't used to people looking out for her, especially to the extent the boys were. "Then I thank them. And you, Critias."

"Just keep our arrangement," he walked away from the door.

"Well aren't you just a ray of sunshine," Circe rolled her eyes. She shivered and crawled back into the bed where it was warm.

It seemed like barely any time had passed before she heard the squires' door bang open and Hermos yelled, "Yo, Cirs, you up?"

"Hermos!" Timaeus quieted his teammate. "Do you want everyone to know she's here?"

"Right, sorry."

Circe crawled out of the bed and wrapped the top blanket around her shoulders. "I'm awake," she said as she stepped out of the room.

Standing in between Timaeus and Hermos was a girl with pink hair so pale it was almost white. Her sapphire gaze met Circe's before dropping to the ground. "This is Belinda," Timaeus introduced the girl. "I study with her in the afternoons. She's a good fit to mind your shop today, and her work doesn't require her to stay in the library."

"Please to meet you," Belinda gave a quick curtsy to the smith. "I'm happy to help. And it'll be nice to get away from Master Gerard."

 _She's pretty skittish._ Circe assessed the younger girl. _She's not going to be able to stand up to the more surly visitors._

"Is he still giving you a hard time?" Timaeus asked.

"Not too much worse than usual," Belinda brushed her bangs from her eyes. "He just hasn't been happy since the prince defended me a few weeks ago. Thinks I don't know my place."

"That I can sympathize with," Circe smiled at the girl. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"Well Timaeus thinks so," Belinda glanced to her friend. "My note and record keeping should prove useful, and I have been wanting to take a look at weapons that were used in the battles I've studied. But I know I won't be as capable as you, Lady Circe."

"Just Circe is fine," she took her ledger from Hermos. "And really, record keeping is the main thing I'm going to need done." Circe flipped to one section of the book. "I have all the finished merchandise listed here with their prices. There's a corresponding tag on each product. If you sell it, mark it in the ledger.

"Now, if a customer wants work on their own items done, write down in this section," she turned to another part of the book. "I'll mainly need the name, item, and residence in case I need to send word on anything. I usually take three to five weeks for an order, but make it six in this case. That way if I get back early and finish, they'll be happy to get it sooner.

"And the last thing I'll need you to study is this," she flipped to the last few pages of the book. She shoved down the nostalgia that came with that carefully scrawled information. "If you're not sure what kind of weapon or armor a customer needs, refer to this. It details the looks, uses, and materials of each item I keep in stock."

Belinda nodded as she took in all the information. "I can't help but notice the handwriting on this is different from the rest of the book."

"That's because it's my father's," Circe's violet eyes fell to her lap. "He wrote it for me when I was learning all of this. Try as I might, I can't come up with better explanations. He… he had a way of making everyone understand exactly what he meant."

Hermos squeezed her hand, silently assuring her he was there. Circe was yet again grateful for her squire friend.

"I'm sorry," Belinda flipped back to the merchandise section. "I didn't mean to bring up unhappy memories."

"Don't worry about it," Circe brushed it off. She couldn't let herself fall to pieces in front of the others. "And feel free to look at the weapons I have in the shop. But I will ask you again. Are you up for this?"

"I'll do my best," Belinda scanned the information on the book. "I'll read this in-between customers, and I should be able to understand enough to help them."

"All right," Circe nodded. "And thank you."

"You're welcome," the pale-haired girl's face flushed slightly pink. "I'm glad I can do some good for someone. And a friend of Timaeus's is a friend of mine." She glanced to the tri-color haired squire. He rubbed the back of his head with her statement.

 _Friends, huh…?_ Aside from Hermos, Circe hadn't considered anyone her friends. But maybe that could change.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

"Thank you for your business!"

Belinda finished recording the sale and waved good-bye to the knight. _So far, so good._ Every customer who had come by remained interested in the finished products. Thanks to Circe's meticulous system, there had been no problems with the customers.

"Not much of a smithy if the forge isn't even running."

Belinda looked up from the book to see a noble glaring at her. His rich blue tunic was a few shades lighter than his navy eyes, and his dark blonde hair was cut short. He scowled at the girl.

"I'm sorry," Belinda's eyes fell back to the ledger. "We're not crafting anything today. We do have several finished products if you'd like to look. Or if you would like a custom order, I can take it down and we'll get it to you in six weeks."

"No," the man's scowl deepened. "I want my armor back."

"Excuse me?" Belinda peered at the man through her bangs. She carefully flipped through the pages of the book, trying to see if there was an order of armor scheduled for a pickup.

"You, little chit, conned my son into giving you my armor instead of taking it to Master Endel like he was supposed to," he glared at her. "I want it back. And then you will close this mockery of a shop for good and remember your place."

Belinda froze with the man's words. They echoed over and in her head, merging with what Master Gerard had been telling her for years.

 _Grow up. These legends are for children._

 _You are an apprentice. Act like one._

 _Do as I say!_

 _You must know your place!_

"No," Belinda slammed the book shut.

"What did you say?" the man scowled again.

"I said no," she said louder. "As you said, your son is the client. Therefore, everything about the order must be discussed with him. Because I know my place. I am an apprentice helping out Lady Circe. So all order changes must go through her. And she knows her place too. She took over her father's trade. Something that practically every child does! And I am tired of people saying 'Know your place' when what they mean is 'I disagree with you so you're wrong!' I work hard, and what I do is just as valid as what you do! So maybe you're not always right!"

"How dare you!" he snarled. He raised a hand above her.

"That's quite enough, Your Grace," a silky smooth voice interrupted. Belinda glanced to the left to see Prince Dartz staring down the noble. "She made her point, and you must accept that. The agreement is with Squire Critias. So you'll have to get him here. I believe I saw him in the practice fields."

Squire Critias? That meant the man was Duke Aron, the king's closest advisor! Belinda just yelled at one of the most powerful men in Atlantis!

"We must stop meeting like this," Dartz chuckled as the duke stormed off. "You can come over if you want to," he said to someone else.

"F-forgive me, Your Highness," Belinda curtsied as deep as she could, blinking away the tears came with the frustration she vented on the duke. "I spoke out of turn. It won't happen again."

"I can't remember the last time I saw my father so furious," the other person said. Through her bangs, Belinda recognized Critias.

"I'm sorry," she shrank back.

"Don't be," Critias assured her. "I've wanted to say some of that for a while."

"You must not be afraid to speak your mind," Dartz added. "There are times silence is necessary, but there are also times when things need to be said."

"Speaking of which," Critias turned to the prince. "With all due respect, Your Highness, why didn't you tell him I was here?"

"It's quite simple," Dartz smirked. "I don't like him. I figure a good walk around the palace will cool him off." He walked over to one of the displays and picked up a longsword. He swung it around, testing the weight and feel of the blade. "I think I rather like this one. It's far more practical than the ones I have."

"Th-thank you, Your Highness," Belinda opened the book and found the sword's entry.

"You're very welcome, Apprentice," Dartz smiled and strapped on the sheathed blade. "I will leave you to your work." He exited the shop and headed back towards the palace.

"Enjoy your day, Your Highness," she waved to him. She slumped against the counter when he was out of sight, her energy drained after her encounter with the duke and prince.

"Are you normally so skittish?" Critias asked. He moved to the other side of the counter. He placed his hand next to hers.

"I guess," Belinda smiled at the gesture. "We're encouraged against emotional outbursts. A scholar must use logic and reason. To get angry lowers your credibility. And my master seems to think I'm a waste of time and could never be correct about anything. It's just easier to stay quiet and mind my own business."

"What's his prejudice?" Critias glanced away as he asked.

"I really don't know," the pale-haired girl sighed. She turned her head to meet his navy eyes. "Being a scholar wasn't my goal; my parents decided it would be a good fit for a girl always reading about the world beyond Atlantis. The world in children's stories…" she paused, remembering the kind scholar she met. "My first master preached wisdom above all else. He always said true wisdom comes from being able to see both sides of the coin."

"Excuse me?" the blond squire raised an eyebrow at her.

"It was a metaphor he used," Belinda pulled a crown from her coin purse. "There are two sides of every coin." She turned it back and forth so he could see King Ironheart's profile on the front side while the royal family's seal was on the back. "But you can only look at one side at a time." She held the coin right in the middle of them. "However I can see the side you can't. If we discuss, describe what we see, we can know what's on both sides."

"So your master encouraged discussion and looking at different sides," Critias studied her expression. Belinda tried not to look away and saw his eyes weren't full of suspicion like the other times she'd encountered him.

"Yes," she smiled. "I loved his ideals of wisdom, and so I combined his teachings with my fascination with the Dominion of the Beasts. But then he died, and I was given a new master. I guess you could say he's a one side of the coin man."

"Sounds like my father," Critias sighed. "He's not a bad person, really. He does care about me and Atlantis and just wants what's best but…"

"It has to be what he thinks is best and not anyone else's?" Belinda finished.

"Exactly," he smiled. "It's gotten worse since… well the last few years. I think you're the first person who gets it."

"Maybe that's because you didn't try to show others your side of the coin," the apprentice joked, surprised with herself. She usually only let her guard down around Anthea and Timaeus. But something about Critias, finding him to be almost a kindred soul, made her relax.

"Maybe," he smirked. He looked away, as if contemplating an issue. "So that day in the courtyard…?"

Belinda flinched. "I really don't know what you saw. I've gone over that day, and I don't remember seeing anything."

"All right, I'll drop it," Critias relented. "Do you need any help?"

"I should be fine, but thank you," she smiled. "Unless you'd like to stay."

"I will," he went to work straightening Circe's displays. "If only so you don't have to face my father alone if he comes back."

"I appreciate that," Belinda turned to the descriptions in the ledger and began studying them once again.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Timaeus headed towards Circe's smithy intending to study with Belinda and help out as needed. Anthea had a concert coming up, so she had to devote more time to rehearsal instead of hanging out with them. Timaeus tried not to mind, but he enjoyed spending time with the muse. She has a way of making everyone around her feel comfortable. He doubted Belinda would have become comfortable with him if Anthea hadn't been around.

He stopped when he saw Critias working at the smithy with Belinda. She seemed relaxed as they talked, which surprised him. Belinda had a hard time opening up to anyone, and there she was smiling and laughing with a squire who had made her uneasy—mainly because he seemed hung up on whatever happened that day she collapsed. _They must have come to some understanding._

Timaeus sighed and decided to head back to the palace. If Critias was with Belinda, then he wouldn't be antagonizing Hermos in their quarters. That would be quiet enough to get his assignments done.

In the hallway outside the quarters, he found Circe coming towards him, a thick shawl wrapped around her. When she spotted him, she turned and went the other way. Timaeus quickened his pace. "Where are you going?" he asked as he caught up to her.

"The smithy," she sighed. "I can't help worrying."

"I just passed by there," Timaeus told her. "Belinda is doing fine. I told you she could do it."

"Yeah, yeah," Circe frowned and pulled her shawl tighter around her. "I would rather do it myself though."

"You will once you feel better," the squire assured her. "But until then, I'd rather not freak Hermos out if he finds you gone. After all, this is going to be one of the few instances of quiet are quarters are going to get, and I'm going to enjoy it."

"Oh?" the smith raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'll tell you when we get back the room."

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Dartz returned to his quarters. "How was your day?" Iona greeted him with a hug.

"Oh, the usual," he smiled and kissed her, his fingers tangling in her auburn hair. "Meetings with Father and the advisors. Training with some of the knights. Oh, I did get a new sword." He let go of her to show off the sheathed blade.

"Really?" she rolled her eyes. "You already have so many."

"I know," he grinned, losing himself in her beautiful brown eyes. "But the apprentice actually yelled at Duke Aron, and so I had to. And it is very well-made."

"I see," Iona chuckled. She inspected the crest on the sheath. "Lady Circe's?"

"She wasn't in, but I'd met the apprentice before. She's a mouse who can roar like a dragon when pushed. I think she's friends with one of your students."

"Oh? Which one?"

"The apprentice I met is named Belinda. I'm afraid I don't know her friend's name."

"Oh, Anthea," Iona smiled and set the sword on the table. "Yes, Anthea has mentioned Belinda. She's been more inspired since studying the legends in the library with her, but I haven't met her."

"I think Apprentice Belinda has potential," Dartz twirled his wife's hair around his fingers. "I think I'll make her an advisor when she's completed her apprenticeship."

"That sounds wonderful," Iona led him to their couch. "We could use more women in there. After all, when I'm there, some of them tell me to go play with my instruments and let them work."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dartz looked the princess in the eyes. "I would have—"

"I know," she cut him off, stroking his light blue hair. "But that would have defeated the purpose. I can take care of myself. And honestly, I'm happier training the muses. There's only one thing I can complain about."

"What's that?"

"I don't get to see you more," she grinned and kissed him.

"My complaint too," he kissed her back, remembering once again how much he loved her.

 _ **I'm going to be honest guys. The Dartz x Iona scene at the end wasn't planned. But I haven't done a whole lot with them in this story, and I honestly love imagining the adorable little happy couple moments they must have had. Also for Dartz, I kind of like the idea that he's a bit of a troll. He enjoys watching people who believe they are right proven wrong. And he's one of only three characters from this time frame that we actually get a feel for as a character** **—the other two being Ironheart and Chris.**_

 _ **Anyway, my growing love of Dartz aside, we pretty much have the entire main cast (the squires and the girls) integrated together. As for next time**_ _ **... more bickering will come and that's all I've got to say. So let me know what you think**_ _ **—what works, what doesn't work, whatever. I love the feedback. See you next time!**_


End file.
